


Last Night's Love Affair Is Looking Vulnerable In My Bed

by hharrytomlinson



Series: Sick Ideas Involving Me, Involving You [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 17-Year-Old Harry, Angst, Beaches, Bonfires, Fluff, Frottage, Innocent Harry, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Older Brother Louis, Older Louis, Polygamy, Protective Louis, Shy Harry, Skinny Dipping, Spring, Step-siblings, Underage Drinking, the second part has all the smut im sorry i tried to keep things as legal as possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hharrytomlinson/pseuds/hharrytomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You didn’t steal anything, did you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Harry stops what he’s doing for a second. “No, why?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No reason,” Louis shrugs, “why’d you bring your backpack in, then?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Harry blushes, bright red, which looks nice with his matching red lips. He blinks up at Louis, so that his eyelashes fan his cheeks in the form of a shadow, and walks to the side of the car to open the door, getting into the backseat without another word.</i>
</p>
<p>
Or, Louis' in charge of Liam's younger step brother, Harry, for spring break and Harry blushes more than he talks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Night's Love Affair Is Looking Vulnerable In My Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [16and18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/16and18/gifts).



> Prompt: a wild spring break journey with the ot5. somehow, a buffalo comes into the story.
> 
> Betaed by W (whose tumblr will be revealed once fics go off anonymous) and britpicked by L (whose tumblr will also be revealed once fics go off anonymous).
> 
> Harry is legal in this, /but/ there won't be any actual sex until he turns eighteen, which is a major part of the plot line.
> 
> There is a second part.

“Lou Lou!” Phoebe cries, running directly into Louis’ lap from where he sits on the couch. “Mummy told me to tell you I’m gonna miss you.” She’s five with missing front teeth and a terrible lisp, and Louis can’t find it in him to be annoyed, even with the high pitched noise of her voice and the way she can run in a circle for an hour and manage to make everyone but herself dizzy.

“Gonna miss you too, pumpkin.” Louis pulls one of his twin sisters onto his lap and looks for the other.

“Daisy’s in the toilets, but she says she’s going to miss you too.” Phoebe confirms. “When will we see Lou again?” She has a habit of never using Louis’ full name, and replacing  _you_  with  _Lou_ , or rhyming anything she can with his name. It’s been like this ever since she started spending Sundays with their grandparents and her grandma adopted the trait of reading all books rhyming to her.

“Soon,” Louis nods his head seriously, “ _definitely_  soon.” He tips Phoebe back on his lap until her hair’s touching the carpeted floor and her squeal is loud and proud.

Daisy comes into the room and instantly scrambles onto Louis’ other knee, forcing his arms full of twins.

“You two going to give me a kiss goodbye?”

Louis leaves home with slobber on his cheeks and the giggle of his two twins sisters imprinted in his head.

*

Louis manages to get to his new dorm room without getting lost. He’s on the third floor of a large building, the boys’ dorm on the west side of London University. His roommate’s someone he’s briefly chatted with on Facebook, and bonded over the fact that neither of them care if the other smokes in the room. Apparently, according to the dorm safety handbook, smoking indoors is worthy of getting evicted, so they’ve both agreed to go outside in the event that they need a smoke.

Louis’ the first to arrive out of the pair, so he picks the bed on the left side of the wall and sets his suitcase on top of it to state his claim. After a long train ride and a taxi, he really needs to pee, and decides to find a restroom, not forgetting to bring his key with him on his way out.

It’s the first day of open dorms available for everyone to move in, which leaves the halls full of families saying goodbye and a game of footie at the end of one. Classes don’t start until the beginning of next week and it’s only Monday, so Louis has time to get adjusted to the Uni-life routine and attend four frat parties, at the minimum.

After asking a guy he passes in the hall, Louis finds the loo and pops in to pee, quietly dreading having to unpack all his things that were neatly folded into his suitcase by his mum the night before.

Louis’ alone in the bathroom and fixing his hair in the mirror until a young boy wanders in, no older than thirteen with short hair. He walks past Louis to the urinals, and Louis watches him in the mirror while he fixes his quiff.

Silently, as to not be awkward, he goes to the only other urinal next to the stranger, unzipping his jeans and making a mental list of all the things he has to do before he’ll allow himself to get something to eat.

It’s a small splash that the boy beside him seems to notice a lot more than Louis himself, but the stranger’s quickly fixing himself into his jeans and apologizing, flustered.

“I really didn’t mean to, I’m so—“

“S’alright, love,” Louis’ terribly polite for a situation like this, should be angry and yelling because a boy’s just splashed his pee on him, clearly has no control over his own penis, “happens to the best of us.” It’s never happened to him before, but a little white lie couldn’t hurt too much. “It’s alright.” He repeats, because the boy beside him is pale and frozen, panicked.

“Th-Thanks.” He stutters. “I mean, um, I’m sorry.” He washes his hands quietly while Louis finishes doing his business, before going back toward the sink.

“You visiting?”

The boy nods his head, staring down at his hands and washing them with soap, scrubbing them clean like Louis should be trying to do with the hem of his shirt. He figures he can just change when he gets back to his room. The boy doesn’t look diseased.

Louis hears the tap turn off before the boy’s gone, door swinging shut in his wake.

Louis returns to his room and opens the door two hours later to a boy who introduces himself as Zayn.

*

Uni unites Louis and his roommate, Zayn, and the two boys across the hall, Liam and Niall. During winter vacation, Niall invites everyone to Ireland, even though they’ve just all met that school year, and even though no one’s able to go due to family obligations, it defines their friendship as more than just neighbors.

“I can’t do this.” Liam groans at the maths in front of him, because finals are in a week and they’ve been trying to review for hours. Louis can’t find it in himself to complain, thankful he gets to go home Friday, when his last final ends at twelve. “I didn’t learn this when we were being taught it, how am I supposed to know it now?”

“That’s me,” Niall bites into the side of his chicken wing, “but with English. I can’t spell for me life.”

Louis bites the middle of his pen and watches the interaction in front of him, knows that Zayn, his boyfriend of a month now, is fast asleep beside him. They’re in the library, is his excuse, and it’s too quiet for the librarians to  _not_  want him to fall asleep.

“Wait, Niall, you can do maths?” Louis questions, knowing that Niall’s only in uni because he’s rich and his parents can afford it. “Then why aren’t you helping Liam?”

“Oh!” He exclaims, setting his take out down and grabbing Liam’s maths from in front of him. He begins to pen in the right answers, until Liam asks him how he got it, and they go over all the questions again.

They’re walking back to their dorms when Liam announces, “My dad’s getting remarried in the spring.” He sounds a bit glum about it and Louis can relate, remembers when his mum got married after a painful divorce. And then she had Phoebe and Daisy and got divorced again, leaving the twins behind.

“You going to the wedding?” Niall stands between Louis and Liam, so Louis peaks over his skinny form to see Liam’s reaction at his question.

“I mean, of course, I’ve got to be supportive, y’know? But it’s just sort of weird.”

“Any hot siblings?” Niall adds in, carrying his half empty take out and no books, unlike everyone else.

“Oh yeah,” Liam’s terrible at sarcasm, “a thirteen year old brother. Definitely.”

*

Louis’ in a stuffy suit with old people dancing feet away and Zayn practically  _in_  his pants. And there’s a boy watching him. He knows he shouldn’t be kissing Zayn or letting Zayn kiss his neck when there’s a young teenaged boy watching, should probably not be making eye contact, whatsoever, but he can’t help it, wonders if the boy’s intrigued, in love with Zayn’s cheekbones, both, or homophobic.

“ _Zayn_ ,” Louis whines, “we’re at Liam’s dad’s wedding. Can’t you be a bit decent?”

“I’m always decent, darling.” Zayn’s right, for the most part, for basically anyone would like to watch him make out with an almost equally as attractive guy. Most girls and gay guys, at least, but Louis knows this isn’t the time or place, and there’s a hotel room with their name on it that is.

“There’s a boy watching us, Zayn.” Louis complains.

“Then ask him to join.” Zayn shrugs, before the tone of his voice completely changes and he sets a hand too far up Louis’ thigh. “You smell so good, Lou, what cologne did you use this morning?”

“The Armani stuff Niall got me for Christmas.”

“Do you think he’s gay?”

“Probably,” Louis’ still staring at the boy, watching the way small curls form by his ears and he almost looks familiar, “what guy gets another guy cologne for Christmas?”

“Niall’s fucking weird.” Zayn laughs.

Louis’ relieved when Niall and Liam get back from dancing and Zayn stops kissing him. It seems that then is when the boy looks away and Louis can finally breathe and no longer feel so uncomfortable, so watched by the familiar face.

“My, um, Anne wants me to introduce her son to my friends.” Liam leaves the table for a moment, before he returns with a small boy in a suit, the same one who’d been watching Louis and Zayn kiss, or more so Zayn kissing Louis. “This is Harry, um, Harry, this is Zayn, Louis, and Niall.”

“Hi.” Niall offers his hand with his mouth full of cake, a half empty beer beside him. Harry appears shy enough to stare at Niall’s hand until it goes away.

While Zayn politely introduces himself, Louis stares.

“Wait a minute, you’re the boy who pissed on me in the toilets!” Louis exclaims suddenly.

Harry turns a bright red, while everyone at the table’s attention shifts to Louis.

“What do you mean he pissed on you?” Liam asks, but Niall’s too far gone laughing for anything Louis says to be coherent for him.

“Nothing.” Louis smiles at Harry. “S’nothing.” He shrugs.

*

Louis and Zayn do end up dancing, before the shots Zayn’s done at the open bar have an effect on him and Liam offers to take him upstairs so that he can rest in his bedroom. It’s not long before he finds himself asking Harry to dance and is grinning at the shy way he lets him hold onto his waist, arms around Louis’ neck.

“It’s not very polite to watch others make out, you know.” Louis makes sure to give Harry a pointed look, like a warning, because not everyone’s going to take it as lightly as him, and it’d be a shame for a baby face like his to get damaged. “Zayn doesn’t really mind, and I think it’s just a bit weird, but not everyone will feel the same.”

“I didn’t, um,” Harry stutters, looks down at his and Louis’ dress shoes, “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“If you want to watch guys make out there’s sites for that. You know that, love, though, yeah?”

Harry gives Louis a confused look and Louis moves his hand to touch one of his curls out of curiosity.

“I suppose you’re lucky you’re cute.” Louis shrugs.

“I didn’t mean to.” Harry repeats, quietly and almost ashamed. He almost looks like he might cry and Louis feels bad for chastising him, even if it was just a small warning glare.

“Aw, are you okay, babe?” Louis grabs Harry’s hand and takes him over toward the drink area, fetching him a bottled water, before pulling out a chair at a table. He has Harry sit down, before pulling a chair next to him. “You look really faint, here, drink this.” He takes the cap off of the bottle of water and nudges it against Harry’s bottom lip until he parts his mouth open and tips his head back, taking sips of the water slowly.

“M’okay.” Harry nods his head. “Um, can you just, like, not tell my mum?”

“Not tell your mum what?” Louis presses the back of his palm to Harry’s forehead, treating him like he would one of his little sisters when his mum’s too busy being a real nurse to play one at home.

“That I, you know, watched you.”

Louis laughs and agrees with the promise of another dance. He goes inside afterward and heads upstairs to find Zayn, who’s half passed out, but doesn’t pass on the opportunity to have Louis on top of him in Liam’s childhood bed.

“You know the boy who was watching us?” Louis asks, but Zayn’s a lot more interested in trailing his fingers up and down Louis’ thighs and feeling under his shirt to the smooth skin of his waist.

“Mmm.” Zayn nods his head. “Yeah, why?”

“That was Harry.” Louis notices Zayn’s confusion. “Liam’s new step brother.”

“Does Liam know he’s gay?” Zayn asks when their lips are centimeters apart and Louis has his body leaned down close enough for them to kiss.

“Harry probably doesn’t even know.” Louis hums. “Anyway, Liam told me we’re staying here tonight? How come?” They all took the train in together so their bags are at Liam’s home and they’re yet to check into their hotel, had only booked it online a few days back.

“The hotel called and said there was an error in the bookings. Neither of us have ten grand for the royal suite, so.” Zayn laughs, before flipping Louis over onto his back, spreading his legs wide and resting his own in between them. He kisses down Louis’ neck until he speaks again.

“Who else is staying here?”

“Just us, I think. Niall says his room is booked solid and we should stay very far away from there, something about bridesmaids, and the newlyweds are going to a different hotel…very far away.”

“What about Liam’s little brother?” Louis rests his head into Zayn’s neck and finds that he smells like the mint cologne Niall got him for Christmas. Great minds think alike.

“Here, I think. Liam’s babysitting.”

“Aww,” Louis coos into Zayn’s neck, “our Liam’s growing up.”

*

Louis doesn’t  _mean_  to be sitting on the countertops of Liam’s family home with Zayn in between his legs, both in only their boxers and making out first thing in the morning. It sort of just happens, just like how Harry sort of just walks in, followed by Liam.

“Can you two please get a bit of decency?” Liam complains, opening the fridge while Harry stands hesitantly in the kitchen doorway. “This is not one of your weird pornos, Louis.”

Louis grabs Zayn’s chin to pull his face away from his long enough for him to grin, “So you clicked the link?” before they go back to sucking face.

They do eventually stop after a minute, and Louis hops down from the countertop to grab himself some cereal out of the pantry and a bowl.

“We’ll be out of your hair by noon, don’t worry.” Louis raises his hands in defense before grabbing the milk Liam’s set down on the table and seating beside Harry. There’s only four chairs, so Zayn’s left with the last one, grabbing a bowl for himself and making cereal after Louis.

There’s nothing very interesting in Wolverhampton, where Liam’s family home is, so Zayn and Louis plan to go to Louis’ all the way in Doncaster. It’s spring break, which means dorms are closed and he really has no choice but to leave and stay gone until classes start up again.

“You two can stay here if you want,” Liam offers, “so long as you don’t have sex on the couch.”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Zayn shrugs, “’ve got to meet Louis’ family someday, don’t I?”

They’ve been dating seriously long enough that it feels to be going somewhere, and that meeting parents is on the agenda for them. They already live together, as roommates, but together nevertheless.

“Well alright,” Liam gets up to collect his bowl, walking past Harry whose head is ducked down as he quietly eats his cereal, “but that means you’re leaving me with Niall. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

***

Zayn’s feet are up on the dashboard of their rented Range Rover, the one Liam’s parents had to sign the lease for because the oldest of them all is Louis, twenty-three, and two years off from being eligible to rent a vehicle. It was part of the deal, they got the car but they also got Harry, Liam’s little brother, who sits in the backseat playing on his PS3 and giggles every time Louis speaks. Louis’ driving, sunglasses moved from his head to his face, and rearview mirror positioned so that he can check to see if Harry’s asleep yet.

It’s April, which means too much rain in London to suffice for a spring break. The countryside of England is beautiful, with lots of windy beaches and a beach house that’s yet to flood, paid for by Niall’s family. As part of the deal, all food’s on Zayn, and Louis’ in charge of Harry, like a sitter, because Liam’s family trusts him the most due to his age, and he’s the poorest out of everyone.

When Harry’s asleep, Louis moves the rearview mirror to Liam who’s playing cards in the middle row with Niall, moving his eyes off of the empty dirt road.

“Does he wet the bed?” Louis asks, catching the attention of everyone in the vehicle, even Zayn, who appears to be asleep behind his sunglasses. Everyone but Harry, that is, who’s been yawning all morning, ever since they left Liam’s and his house at seven.

“How should I know?” Liam hands a card to Niall and picks one up. “Besides, he’s seventeen, not six. Mum says he doesn’t hog the covers much either. I think Niall said there’s a couch you can sleep on if you need it.”

The house comes with four rooms and four beds, and there’s five of them. Louis had been nominated to share by everyone, as part of their agreement to split expenses, apparently sharing a bed with Liam’s step-brother is worth more than the cost of renting a Range Rover for a week, including petrol.

“Can we stop for lunch?” Niall looks up from his deck of cards. “There’s a city near the house, a bit off from the countryside. I thought we could pick up some groceries and things to do.”

“Louis, be good to Harry, please?” Liam asks. “He’s a bit more sensitive than you.”

Louis nods his head, to either Niall or Liam, he doesn’t know. They all met during their first year of Uni, after Louis’ gap year, and are graduating together this year, which explains going all out for spring break. He’s met Harry once or twice before vaguely, but nothing too memorable.

Louis fixes the rearview mirror back on Harry, only being able to see his pudgy waist and the way he rests on his side on the pillow he brought with him. He’s sleeping across the back row, headphones in his ears.

Louis takes a left into town, down a windy road, and into the city closest to their house for the week.

*

Louis decides his friends are shit when they take him being in charge of Harry seriously. Leaning over in the back row of the Range Rover, Louis watches Harry’s sleeping form while Liam, Zayn, and Niall wait for him to wake the seventeen year old in the car park.

Gently, Louis pulls one ear bud out of Harry’s ears at a time, trying to be good to him, like Liam asked. He doesn’t know why one of his best mates wouldn’t trust him with their little brother, has never been rude to Harry before, but softly rubs circles into his back until Harry’s turning over onto it and Louis’ scooting away.

“We’re stopping in town to go shopping and get something to eat.” Louis fixes the end of Harry’s jeans from where they’ve ridden up around his thin ankles and smiles.

Harry sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods his head groggily, sitting up and moving his legs to the ground.

“Can I bring my bag in?” Harry asks, voice soft and shy. The door’s closed, so the rest of the boys can’t listen in, and Louis shrugs, nodding his head.

When Louis and Harry leave the Range Rover, Niall’s slumping against the vehicle and Zayn has a cigarette in between his fingers, pointing toward in between his lips.

“Zayn and I are gonna go get some toiletry stuff,” Liam clears his throat, “and Niall’s picking up lunch.”

“Toiletries?” Louis questions, a bit confused, “didn’t I text you all last night to get your—“

“Oh.” Louis interrupts himself. “Oh, gross, where do you need Harry and I, then?”

“Well if you could buy some food that’d be nice.” Zayn smirks, interrupting.

“Before I forget,” Liam shuffles through his back pocket, taking out his wallet, before opening it to take out a picture of him and Harry at their parent’s wedding, pointing toward the backside, “these are Harry’s allergies. Make sure there’s something he can eat, yeah?”

Louis accepts the photo and swings an arm over Harry’s shoulders, resting slightly against his backpack.

“Whatever you say, boss, anything we need in particular?”

“Beer,” Niall chirps, “crisps, oh! Maybe those little hot dogs, what do they call them?”

“Pigs in blankets?” Zayn laughs. “We also need more cigs.” He hands Louis his credit card, one of them, at least, and throws his cigarette to the ground, smashing it down with the heel of his boots.

“ _You_  need more cigs.” Liam corrects. “Just make sure you don’t lose Harry, okay?”

Louis salutes Liam, before dragging Harry off, letting his mostly bare arm hang over the seventeen year old. The sun’s out, but it’s not quite hot enough for Louis’ tank top and shorts, yet he’s wearing them anyway, instantly regretting it once he grabs a trolley, having to release Harry, and gets inside of the supermarket where everywhere appears to be the freezer section.

“Anything you want?” Louis glances toward Harry, turning the picture of Harry’s flushed cheeks in his tuxedo and Liam casually pulling him into his side over to read the list of Harry’s allergies.

 _Harry’s Allergies_ , the back reads,  _shellfish, peanuts, tree nuts, and penicillin._

“Is penicillin a food?” Louis knows it sounds familiar, and that he has a little sister with the same allergy, but figures if he’s shopping for Harry as well as everyone else, he should know.

“It’s a medicine.” Harry’s not looking at Louis when he replies, and follows behind into the fruits and vegetables section, where Louis picks out a bunch of bananas and an assortment of greens, before moving on down the meat section.

Harry’s not as talkative as Liam, or as snarky as Zayn, doesn’t talk or make a comment when Louis picks out cupcakes with smiley faces on them, or the pigs in a blanket Niall asked for. At the till, Louis asks for a pack of cigarettes and loads beer onto the conveyer belt, followed by a bag of crisps.

“We’re going to need this.” Louis lifts the bottle of vodka he’d picked out especially for himself and Harry and shows his ID, before carrying on loading up the shopping.

Harry scrunches his nose up, confused, but doesn’t say anything, just hangs by the trolley and assists Louis in placing the bagged shopping inside when they’re done.

When they’re packing the shopping into the trunk and Louis can spot Zayn and Liam walking out of the pharmacy across the street, Louis asks, “You didn’t steal anything, did you?”

Harry stops what he’s doing for a second, noticeably confused, before responding, “No, why?”

“No reason,” Louis shrugs, “why’d you bring your backpack in, then?”

Harry blushes, bright red, which looks nice with his matching red lips. He blinks up at Louis, so that his eyelashes fan his cheeks in the form of a shadow, and walks to the side of the car to open the door, getting into the backseat without another word.

“Harry okay?” Liam jogs to Louis’ side, a bag of undoubtedly lube and condoms in hand.

Louis shrugs, “I think so,” and goes to return the trolley back to the grocery store, before finding himself in the front seat of the car with a takeaway bag everyone’s already picked out of in his lap.

“I got you a burger and chips,” Niall grins with a mouthful of food, directed toward Louis, before his attention is suddenly drawn to Harry.

In Harry’s lap is a special allergy-free burger, plain old meat and bun and Niall reaches behind his seat to ruffle Harry’s hair.

“I wish I had a little brother.” Niall sighs admirably, and Louis watches in the rearview mirror as Harry blushes around his burger shyly and takes a sip from his bottle of water.

Once Louis’ done eating, they start driving again so the milk and ice cream in the trunk don’t go bad. They’re twenty minutes from the house, and by the time they arrive, Niall’s asleep on Liam’s shoulder.

Louis parks in front of the house, excited at the view of the beach he has, and tosses the keys to Zayn.

“You can be in charge of waking Niall and Liam up.” Louis takes off his seatbelt. “Also, mind putting the milk and ice cream in the fridge before it gets warm? Harry and I are going to the beach.”

“Did you ask Harry if he wanted to go to the beach?” Zayn laughs, but Louis’ already out of the car, opening the back door to the car, and grinning when he notices Harry’s going to come with him.

Harry undoes his seat belt and follows behind Louis down to the beach. Louis shouts behind him to Zayn, “Bring some towels down when you’re done shagging, will ya?” and runs toward the water.

The beach itself is large, but no one’s there because of the placement of the house. The nearest neighbours are miles away, leaving the ocean all to them.

Louis doesn’t bother to stop at the sand to take off his shirt or shorts, just slips off his vans by the shore and runs right into the ocean, Harry watching after him.

“Oh, fuck!” Louis shouts, realizing how cold it is too late. He’d ducked right under when the water was deep enough, closing his eyes as to not get salt water in them, which resulted in drenching everything, feeling like his body could turn to ice any second. “Harry, love, you gonna come in?” Louis calls out, not very far away, but far enough for the waves to bounce his body.

He can see the small bite of a lip and shake of the head, tsks under his breath.

“Reasonably so.”

Louis swims back toward the sand and Harry, sitting a few feet in front of where Harry stands so that he can see how the sand gets soaked and smoothed over every time the waves flood in.

“Is Liam dating Zayn?” Harry asks, shyly and still standing. Louis can hear the slight shaking and hesitance of his voice and smiles, laying back in the sand so that his hair gets filled with sand.

“Sort of.” Louis doesn’t know how he can explain his best mates’ poly relationship to one of their brothers, so he doesn’t, figures that Harry will figure it out by himself.

“Why aren’t you?” He remembers Harry watching Louis and Zayn make out at Liam’s dad’s wedding and laughs.

“Why, do you want to?”

He’s just kidding, but when he turns his head, Harry’s face is pale and he’s shaking his head, like he’s been caught, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“It’s alright, love, Zayn’s fit enough, but I’d say you could do better than a cocky prat like him.”

When Harry doesn’t respond, Louis stands and brushes the sand off his wet clothes. He walks with Harry back to the house where a towel is presented to him by Niall, who explains that Zayn and Liam are upstairs, and makes Harry’s cheeks a bright red color.

“I’m gonna go shower, can you watch Harry?” Louis ruffles his hair with the towel.

“Sure. Liam’s gonna grill hot dogs tonight.” Niall calls after Louis.

“Campfire?” Louis grins. It’s a traditional type thing.

“Campfire.” Niall confirms, just in time for Louis to pounce up the main stairs loud enough for Liam and Zayn to be warned that Harry and Louis have arrived home.

*

Louis finds his and Harry’s suitcase in their room at the end of the first floor hall once he comes out of his shower. He’s just in a towel wrapped around his waist and takes his time lifting his suitcase onto the full sized bed, fishing out boxers, and then a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. It contrasts from the attire he’s worn all day, wet with sea water and hanging in the bathroom, waiting to be thrown in the wash.

Louis’ about to drop his towel when the door opens and Harry in his black and white checkered backpack stop in the doorway. His eyes widen dramatically and Louis grins, fishes for a clean shirt instead and maneuvers it over his head.

“Close the door and get in.” Louis tells Harry to do. Harry’s too shy to disobey and gets into the room, closing the door softly behind him. “You want to watch or turn around, then?” Louis’ just teasing, but Harry doesn’t take it that way, murmurs an apology and turns around to stare at the wooden door in front of him.

Louis knows Harry can hear him drop his towel, watches the way Harry flinches and his back muscles clench through his white shirt. Louis fixes his boxers on, before slipping his legs into his sweatpants one at a time.

“You can turn back around.” Louis plops down on the edge of the bed, closing his suitcase back up. “I won’t bite, by the way, you don’t need to be so frigid and shy all the time.”

Louis turns his head, tries to see Harry’s reaction while he fishes through his own suitcase for something. But Harry’s curls block his facial features and Louis can’t tell if his lips are turned up in a smile or down in a frown, sighs and rests back against the bed.

“We’re having a campfire tonight.” Louis supplies, sits up again to see Harry’s face when he turns around. “You’re invited and all, y’know? Any good with making toasted marshmallows?”

“That’s okay,” Harry murmurs, voice soft and quiet, “I think I’m gonna go to bed early instead.” He fishes a sweatshirt out of his bag and fixes it over his head. “Can you, um,” Harry clears his throat, “I want to change out of my jeans.” He gestures toward the jogging bottoms in his left hand and Louis offers him a small smile, getting up and shutting the door behind him to give Harry privacy.

Louis waits for Harry, figures that he might go down to watch television or get something to eat, since it’s only four in the afternoon, but the door stays closed and when Louis places a gentle knock on the wood and peaks in, Harry is sleeping facing the door and on his side, occupying the left side of the bed and breathing out little sighs in his sleep.

*

“Harry still asleep?” Liam passes Louis a beer from the cool box by the grill, and Louis opens it on the side of the grill, dropping the cap onto the ground and finding himself a seat beside Zayn on the outdoor furniture.

“I think so,” Louis shrugs, “he has been for like four hours, though. You sure he’s alright?”

It’s dark outside and Niall’s just now getting around to making dinner, hot dogs on the grill with a campfire going in the middle of the strategically positioned double chairs. They can hear the waves straight ahead and smell the smoke, a nice mixture that has Louis warmed and feeling comfortable.

“He’s probably just being shy.” Liam seems a bit concerned, though, isn’t as close to Harry as he’d like to be, and Louis knows that, knows that may be why he’d tagged along, if not for the reason that Liam and Harry’s parents were going on holiday, too.

“Do you want me to go get him? Or at least see if he’s up?”

Liam smiles and seems much more comfortable with Louis’ offer, thanking him with a murmur.

Louis’ about to step into the house through the sliding glass doors before Liam adds, “If he comes out here, tell him to wear a hat, would you? So he doesn’t catch a cold or anything.”

Louis opens the bedroom door slowly and quietly, in the case that Harry’s sleeping, but once the door’s fully open and he’s inside of the room, he realizes the lamp’s on and Harry’s legs are to his chest, book rested in his lap.

“What’re you reading, love?” Louis leans against the doorway, beer in hand while he keeps in mind to be gentle with Harry,  _good_  with him.

“ _The Catcher in the Rye_.” Harry doesn’t peek up from his book, just keeps his head down, curls flopping over his forehead.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Do you want to take a break and come outside?”

Harry shakes his head, “No thank you.” He’s polite, but Louis’ dissatisfied, knows that he’s not having Harry spend the entire holiday in this room.

“Liam’s looking for you.” Louis sighs. “We see each other all the time. It’d be nice to have someone new. Even Zayn asked where you were.” It’s not a lie, he  _did_ , but so did Niall, a bit more casual about it. So did  _Louis_.

“I don’t like Zayn like that.” Harry closes his book, marking the page he was on. He’s blushing shyly, anyway, even if what he says is true.

“That’s alright, sweetheart, enough people already do.” Louis winks, and walks further into the room, setting his beer down on the unused writing desk and grabbing Harry’s bag from off the floor. Louis’ about to open it when Harry quickly crawls to the end of the bed, where the bag’s rested and Louis’ fumbling with it, and stops him, grabbing it away to clutch to his chest.

“What’re you doing?”

“Liam says to wear a hat, figured you’d have one in here.”

Harry swallows and nods his head, before pointing to where his suitcase is on the ground beside Louis’.

Louis doesn’t appear as confused as he should over Harry’s possessiveness with his bag, just undoes the big pocket of Harry’s suitcase and finds a beanie that he tosses to Harry.

“You don’t have to stay long, alright, love?” Louis guides Harry out of the room, beer in one hand and the middle of Harry’s back in another. “When Niall’s on his third beer, you can leave, if you want.” He jokes, earning a small giggle out of Harry that only widens his already existent grin from getting Harry outside.

*

The first finished hot dog goes to Harry, and Louis slips it into a bun, before asking, “Do you want ketchup or mustard?”

“I think there’s some relish inside, too, if you want some.” Liam adds in from the other side of the grill. The outside lights and campfire provide enough light for Louis to see the labels on each cold bottle of condiments, to see what he’s doing when he sets Harry’s hotdog down on a paper plate and grabs a beer out of the cool box.

“Ketchup’s fine.” Harry’s still shy, but not as quiet, looks down at his lap when he responds, but responds anyway.

Louis squirts a line of ketchup down Harry’s hotdog, before walking it over to him, setting the beer on the arm of the double chair and the plate in Harry’s hands.

“I don’t, um,” Harry bites his lip, and Louis smiles.

“S’alright, love, we’ve soda, too.”

Harry blinks up at Louis and nods his head with a small smile that has Louis taking the beer back and replacing it beside Harry with a can of soda.

Louis makes up a hotdog for himself and grabs another beer before seating himself beside Harry, the chair small enough for their sides to press together, but big enough so that it was made to be like that.

“Beach day tomorrow?” Zayn asks, taking up a whole double chair for himself, and leaving Liam and Niall to share.

“Guess so.” Louis shrugs. “I’m not sure if it’d be very clever to spend all day indoors.” He takes a bite of his hotdog and a swig of his beer, glancing over at Harry who’s eating silently, unnoticed. “How about you, Harry? Should we make a proper beach day out of it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pack sandwiches, build a sand castle, avoid watching Zayn and Niall make out, the like.” He shrugs.

Harry shrugs unknowingly, unsure on how to respond, and Louis can’t help but smirk the tiniest of bits, setting an arm over Harry’s shoulders.

“You want another one?” Louis gestures toward the grill, to where there’s still a few hot dogs cooking. They’re grown men, for the most part, and can scarf down more than one even if their bellies are already filled with beer.

“No thank you.” Harry takes a bite of his hot dog, near done.

“We should play a drinking game.” Niall’s on his third beer. Harry should be gone, but he’s still outside, sipping from his can of soda and leaning into Louis’ arm. He’s noticeably a bit tired and the outdoor furniture is cushioned, not helping.

“Never have I ever or truth or dare?” They only ever play the same two because it makes the amount of time it takes Niall to pass out shorter, resulting in the amount of time they’re forced to play not as long.

Zayn groans, gets up, and stands behind Niall, before whispering something to him.

“Tempting,” Niall murmurs, “never have I ever it is!”

Louis leans into Harry cautiously, taking his empty paper plate from his lap and throwing it into the fire. “Do you want to play? You don’t have to drink alcohol if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll, um,” Harry bites his lip, and Louis sets his hand on his shoulder, letting his arm slide down from where it rests over the back of the chair. “I’ll play.”

“One sec,” Louis announces to the group, getting up to run inside to the kitchen for a second.

He finds a plastic cup and goes back to the cool box outside, picking a bottle of beer out. Inside of the cup, he pours some of Harry’s soda and some beer in, pushing the rim of the cup up to Harry’s lips.

“Try this.” He whispers, so the rest of the group won’t hear and Harry won’t feel so embarrassed. “It might taste a little weird.” Louis laughs, tips the cup back until Harry’s had a reasonable amount in his mouth, and lets him swallow.

Harry takes the cup from Louis’ hand and nods his head, letting Louis fill half of the rest of the cup with soda and the other half with beer.

Louis takes the rest of the bottle of beer for himself.

“I’ll start,” Louis takes a sip of his beer for the heck of it, “never have I ever been in a polygamous relationship.”

Harry’s noticeably confused when Zayn, Niall, and Liam all take a sip from their cups, even turns to give Louis a puzzled look, but doesn’t ask anything in return.

“Never have I ever,” Niall burps, “had remarried parents.”

Louis, Harry, and Liam all drink.

“Never have I ever broken up with someone over text.” Zayn throw his paper plate into the fire, followed by Niall.

Niall, Liam, and Louis all drink.

“Never have I ever shagged Louis.”

Zayn drinks, flipping Liam off.

It’s Harry’s turn, and Louis turns to him, watches him.

“Never have I ever gone to Uni.”

Everyone but Harry drinks and Louis grins into his bottle, tells himself that he might just not be so bad having around.

*

Harry turns out to be a very light weight, so Louis helps him inside and down the hall, Liam and Zayn having been given the responsibility to get a passed out Niall into bed. Harry leans against Louis’ side, and Louis supports him by an arm around his waist, slow steps and wobbly movements alike. Louis’ not too drunk, but could be sober-er, almost forgets that Harry’s wearing his trainers, and helps him out of his hoodie, leaving him in his white t-shirt and joggers.

Louis’ dressed the same for bed, not bothering to pee, even though he sort of needs to, and turns off the light, crawling in beside Harry and covering them both with blankets.

“L-Louis?” Harry whispers, turns over onto his side and sets the tops of his fingertips onto Louis’ bare arm, soft and gentle.

Louis hums, rolls over to face Harry. He’s tired, really wants to go to sleep, but this is the first time Harry’s approached him directly without a previous conversation and he’s not about to just pass it up.

“Can you do me a favour?” Louis stays quiet, listens. “Do you think you can hand me my backpack? Without opening it?”

Louis sighs, but makes it a point to get out of bed and set the backpack down in Harry’s lap. No matter how tempting it may be, he makes sure not to touch any of the backpack’s zips, doesn’t even try to look inside of the bag when he walks around to the other side of the bed and peels the duvet back.

“Thank you.” Harry whispers, and when Louis can feel something soft against his arm, can hear Harry zipping his bag back up and gently set it down to the ground, he knows he’d taken a stuffed animal out. “Lou?”

Louis nods his head and rolls over onto his side, facing Harry. “Yes, love?”

“Does Liam want me here?”

Louis frowns a bit, his face falling in the dark. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“He put you in charge of me.” Harry mumbles, tucking the blankets under his chin.

“It’s just that,” Louis tries to explain, doesn’t really know how without explaining the dynamics of their friendship, “you’re young, y’know? And in order for him to have the fullest potential of fun, he can’t be put in charge of you.”

“So you’re not going to have fun for Liam. Like a martyr?”

“You see,” Louis turns over onto his other side, “that’s where you’re wrong, love.”

*

Louis feels lips on his mouth and a tongue on his lips and scrunches up his face, groans and turns his head to his shoulder, only for the tongue to move to his cheek.

“Get the fuck off me, Niall.” Louis doesn’t have the energy to physically push Niall away, barely has it to speak. “I know you’re not Zayn. You and I both know Zayn knows how to kiss.”

Niall and Liam’s favourite pass time is taking the piss out of Louis and Zayn for having dated during their first year of Uni. That was before Zayn’s confession of wanting a polygamous relationship, and Louis telling him that he couldn’t give him that.

“Hey, how’d you know?” Niall frowns, sits at the end of the bed like a lap dog while Louis groans and rolls over onto his side, facing where he can feel Harry’s body giving off heat.

“You smell like Ireland and farts.” Louis grumbles something else that he doesn’t even understand under his breath, before reaching his arms out for Harry and pulling him into his body, wrapping his legs around the seventeen year old’s and burying his face into the boy’s torso. “Now leave me and Harry alone, we’re trying to sleep.”

Harry lets out a giggle, apparently awake, and Louis grins into his shirt, yawning because he’s tired and Harry’s body heat isn’t helping.

Niall leaves the room and Louis holds onto Harry tighter, murmuring, “Why’re you so soft, darling?” into his chest. Harry giggles louder this time and squirms embarrassedly out of Louis’ hold, blushes while stuttering and telling Louis he’s going to go shower, and stumbles all the way to the bathroom.

In the kitchen, Zayn’s making eggs and Liam’s filling a cool box with sandwiches and beer, going on to Niall about how they can’t just come back to the house if they’re hungry and explaining how that’d ruin the entire beach day experience.

“Hey, don’t forget to pack a soda or two for Harry, okay?” Louis sounds concerned for a moment, doesn’t mean to be, but also knows that Harry’s not comfortable drinking beer and had only done it the night before to fit in with his older step brother and his mates. To fit in with Louis.

Louis makes toast for himself and Harry, popping four slices into the toaster and waiting.

“Can I have some?” Niall’s wearing his hat and swim trunks, skateboarding through the kitchen and Louis rolls his eyes.

“No, you can’t.”

“How come?” Niall pouts, shiny eyes and fat bottom lip, everything that has Louis pushing him so that he nearly stumbles off of the death machine supporting his body.

“’Cause it’s for Harry and I.”

“If you’re making food you have to make food for everyone.” Niall argues, lives by that rule because he never makes food, just mooches off of everyone else to solve his hunger and feed his laziness.

“Well until Liam puts me in charge of you, Harry’s the only person I’ve to take care of, myself not included.”

Zayn whistles, plopping eggs onto a plate, and then another, before dishing them toward Louis.

“Harry likes just butter and the crust cut off.” Liam leans against the counter tops and grins, just in time for Harry to come into the kitchen with wet hair and in a white t-shirt and swim trunks. Louis hands him his plate and asks if he wants juice, ruffling Harry’s hair and fixing up the toast, before pulling a seat out beside him.

Liam pours juice into glasses for everyone while Zayn kisses Niall on the cheek and pops some slices of bread into the toaster for him.

Harry smiles at Louis and bites into his toast while Louis fixes Harry’s fringe for him, placing a curl behind his ear, before deciding it looks better in front.

“Why are we going to the beach if it’s not hot outside?” Harry asks, taking a sip of his juice. Louis notices the backpack on his back like a safety blanket.

“Well  _you_  don’t have to swim,” Louis responds, “I, personally, am going to make a palace out of sand and avoid watching these three make out.” He gestures toward the relative kitchen space, where Zayn and Niall stand near the toaster and Liam’s looking for jam in the fridge, blindly.

“You act like we can’t control ourselves, a bit ignorant, innit?” Zayn’s asking Harry and Harry blushes, looks down at his breakfast to avoid eye contact while Louis gets up to get some towels from upstairs.

*

Louis and Harry walk behind Liam, Zayn, and Niall down to the beach. With an arm swung over Harry’s shoulders, Louis peers behind his sunglasses to see the waves up ahead, hoping the water won’t be too cold and for the weather to get warmer throughout the day. Fortunately, it doesn’t matter what the temperature is outside to build a sandcastle, and the sand buckets and shovels Louis brought along are safely packed for a day’s job.

“It’s alright if you do like Zayn, y’know?” Louis leans into Harry so no one else can hear, can smell the green apple on him from having showered. “S’nothing wrong with finding guys fit.”

Harry stays quiet, like he’s mulling over it, or has gone back into his shell. Whichever it is has Louis leaning down and murmuring, “I’ll race ya,” into Harry’s ear, and then he’s running around the clump the other boys’ bodies have made and hurrying down the beach.

Harry follows, much to Louis’ surprise, manages to catch up with Louis, and then stays at the same pace as him all the way down to a clear spot by the water, but not too close.

Louis sets down a large picnic blanket to sit on and uses one of the beach chairs Zayn brought down to set the cooler on, tugs on Harry’s wrist to sit with him when he notices he’s hesitant about resting on the blanket.

Liam spreads out another picnic blanket causing Louis to gag when Niall rests with him on it. Zayn, on the other hand, takes off his shirt and heads right into the water, and if Louis whistles after him, it’s only because it results in a giggle falling past Harry’s lips while he takes his backpack off and sets it down on the other end of the blanket.

Zayn manages to coerce everyone but Louis and Harry into the water. He gets Niall in first, who screams, “The water’s cold as balls!” and then Liam, who takes off his shirt and Louis cheers on, before taking off his own.

Harry’s the only one not shirtless, laying beside Louis on the blanket and somewhat tanning.

“You gonna strip, too, love?” Louis’ only joking, expects a response other than a shy shrug.

Harry sits up and draws his knees to his chest, bottom lips in his mouth and cheeks flushed.

“C’mon, love, no insecurities here, besides, Niall automatically gets worst looking with his shirt off by default.” Louis laughs, tries to be gentle with Harry and sits up too, giving his side a small nudge.

Louis doesn’t expect for Harry to bury his face into his chest shyly, leaning against Louis for support. Louis could coo in awe, but would rather rub Harry’s back for comfort, gentle, and lifting up his shirt when his hand trails down by Harry’s waist.

Harry eventually moves away from Louis to take off his shirt, taking the hem of it that’s already been lifted by Louis’ hand. His shirt goes on top of Louis’ on the sand, and Louis doesn’t bother hiding looking at the pudge on Harry’s love handles and how his belly button’s an inny.

Louis gets up to go in the water, and holds a hand out for Harry, knowing he’ll feel bad if Liam’s little brother’s left out. Harry stands with the help of Louis, and doesn’t release his hand, instead walks shyly behind Louis and holds on until they approach the ocean.

“Harry!” Niall cheers from on top of Zayn’s shoulders. “Play chicken with me!”

“This is a really bad idea!” Liam’s shouting from the shallow end while Louis swims toward Niall, Harry trailing hesitantly behind with their hands detached.

“Want to play, Harry?” Louis turns to face Harry and slides an arm around Harry’s waist underwater by instinct. The water goes up to their shoulders, and Harry shrugs, is too shy to make the decision on his own, so Louis does it for him.

Ducking under water, Louis swims up behind Harry, before crawling in between his legs and lifting him up. Harry and Niall are suddenly at equal height and Louis’ hands are holding onto Harry’s thighs, supporting him up above the water.

Louis leans in as much as he can without tipping Harry and murmurs to Zayn, “Dunk him.”

Niall falls with a splash into the water and Louis cheers, dunking Harry and suddenly going down under with him, holding Harry underwater in a hug before bringing him back above to the surface.

“We won!” Louis cheers, noticing how Harry’s hair goes flat when it’s wet and covers his eyes. He lets go of Harry to rub it in Niall’s face, only to be pushed under water for a total of five seconds before he swims away, escaping.

When Harry asks if he can get out of the water, shivering with blue lips and complaining he’s cold, Louis tells him to stay put for a second, swimming to shore, and grabbing Harry his towel, along with his own, before wrapping him up in it to keep him warm.

“Thank you.” Harry blushes, head ducked down while he walks with Louis back to their blanket.

“You hungry, love?” Louis rubs Harry’s back for warmth, thinks that maybe he just likes doing it in general, and grins at the way Harry wraps his towel around his waist, his belly on show.

Harry nods his head and while Louis reaches into the cooler to pull out a turkey and cheese sandwich, he also grabs himself a beer, before remembering.

“Liam packed you a soda if you’d like it.”

“Okay.” Harry nods his head. “Thank you.”

Once they both have sandwiches in their lap and drinks in their hands, Harry and Louis settle to eat, Niall’s laugh echoing through the beach.

*

“What year are you in now?” Louis hates silence and the awkwardness of sitting next to Harry, their sides brushing every so often while they take bites of their sandwiches, but not talking to one another.

“Twelve.”

Louis whistles and takes a sip from his beer, tossing his trash to the side and leaning back on his palms. He thinks back to when he was seventeen and spent his days at school, afternoons practicing for footie and falling on his bum whenever he kicked the ball too hard or too high, and nights wanking in the darkness of his room to porn on the recommended page of whatever site looked the nicest.

“How old are you?” Harry asks around his sandwich, turkey stuck to cold bread and cheese.

“Twenty-three.” Louis turns his head to glance at Harry. “But old enough to know Niall’s far too drunk for twelve in the afternoon.”

They both glance toward the ocean where Niall’s splashing and laughing loud, tipsy from having snuck a shot of vodka before they left. Louis had caught and chastised him, grabbed the bottle out of his hand and hissed  _This is for Harry and I, not your drunk arse. Here, gimme that, I’ll make some jello shots, later, alright?_

Niall’s problem with alcohol is minor and Irish-induced, according to the man himself, but Louis’ still glad he has two boys to watch after him when he can’t.

Harry turns his face into his bare shoulder and giggles, the redness of his lips contrasting with the softness of his pale arm. He plays with the fabric of his patterned swim trunks after tossing his trash with Louis’, and curls his knees up to his chest. If Harry leans his head on Louis’ shoulder, bare skin so close, everything else seems to fade away.

*

It’s later when they’re building a sand castle and Harry giggles every time Louis pours sand on the seventeen year old’s feet instead of their creation that Louis leans forward to tickle Harry and Harry dodges away, mouth open in a laugh. Louis manages to catch him anyway, blowing a raspberry into Harry’s shoulder, and neither of them notice that Harry’s back’s crushed the sand castle until Louis offers to bury Harry and they suddenly realize the excess sand beneath him.

“Sand’s really heavy.” Harry notes once Louis has moved from building the sand around his feet to his legs. Niall and Zayn have fallen asleep and Liam’s in the water for a “relaxing swim,” as he’d put it. Louis’ never noticed how long Harry’s legs are until now and drags his eyes up and down them, thinking of how they’ll be when he’s fully grown, wondering if his thighs will still look so soft.

“Mmm.” Louis hums. “Does that mean you’re trapped?” Louis builds the sand around Harry’s torso, makes sure to not put on too much, before he’s burying Harry’s arms.

Harry shrugs.

“What do you want me to do, then? If you are?” Louis has to stop himself quickly, though, reaches behind him to take a sip of his second beer because Harry’s only recently turned seventeen and Liam’s younger brother. Harry’s  _his_  responsibility and he can’t cock it up by making the boy uncomfortable.

“Liam will help me.” Harry decides, smiling in naivety.

“You sure about that?” Louis raises an eyebrow and watches Harry nod his head, sand filling his hair and itching his scalp.

Liam comes out of the water to catch Louis putting the finishing touches on Harry, piling sand onto his arms and then ruining the sand pile on his sides by tickling him.

“What’re you doing to my brother?” Liam grabs a beer from the cool box and sits on Harry and Louis’ blanket.

“I did nothing. Harry here buried his body all by himself.”

“That so?” Liam asks, pointed toward Harry who nods his head pliantly.

“I tried to warn him, too,” Louis’ just teasing, loves the small giggle that leaves Harry’s mouth when he says, “I told him he’d have sand up his butt for days but he didn’t listen.”

*

There’s a long line of people who need to shower when they get home from their day at the beach. Harry offers to do the laundry and wash the towels, so that he’s not taking up the bathroom, but Louis’ dissatisfied with the shorter line, thinks it needs to be shorter because he can feel the sand in places it shouldn’t be.

“Why don’t you three shower together and Harry and I will take the downstairs shower.”

“You are  _not_  showering with my little brother.” Liam interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I  _mean_  one after another. You get a shag in, I don’t have to wait, we all win, Liam.” Louis rolls his eyes, pushing Zayn, Niall, and Liam all into the upstairs toilet. He hears the snickers from behind the door as he hurries back downstairs, but doesn’t pay any mind to them, beating Harry to the shower and only coming out once he’s done.

Harry’s waiting at the door with his PS3 in hand, back against the wall in only his swim trunks. There’s a pile of clothes he plans to wear after his shower behind him, and Louis notices how he doesn’t realize he’s staring down at him until Louis clears his throat and Harry looks up and then down. Louis’ only in his boxers and walks right past Harry down the hall, leaving him to his business.

There’s no harm in thinking the extra time Harry spends in the shower is because of him and not the sand stuck on his skin.

*

Harry’s reading  _The Catcher in the Rye_  again and Louis’ not having it, especially when Batman’s starting soon, depending on how long it takes Zayn and Liam to make out before pressing start on the microwave to make popcorn.

“Harry, love,” Louis has a hint of whining in his voice and falls face down on their bed, left arm strewn across Harry’s waist and pressing his book flat down in his lap. “You  _have_  to watch the film. I don’t think you understand.”

“How come?” Harry asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“I made jelly shots and  _popcorn_ ,” the last part may be a lie but Harry doesn’t seem to mind, “with  _our_  vodka, too. The jelly shots, not the popcorn. It’d be a shame if you locked yourself in here all night while I have to watch them all make out. Holden can wait, love.”

Louis settles his legs comfortably across the couch, bum in Harry’s lap and feet in Zayn’s. Niall and Liam are on the floor, Niall’s hand permanently glued in the bowl of popcorn, and Louis grabs a jelly shot off the tray in his lap to offer it to Harry, holding the edge of the shot glass up to his bottom lip and only tipping it back when Harry opens his mouth, showing no resistance and little hesitance.

The film is long and Harry ends up falling asleep first, waking every time Louis squirms in his lap. Zayn’s next, and when Niall realizes he’s getting tired, he forces Liam to carry him upstairs.

By the time the movie’s over, Louis’ murmuring nonsense into Harry’s ear, his voice vibrating against the boy’s ear drum until he’s fully awake and capable to walk himself to bed.

Harry’s in his pajamas when he grabs his bag off the floor, Louis already in bed and checking his phone, texting Harry’s mum and reassuring her that he’s okay and they’re just going to bed now.

“Lou?” Harry asks, backpack in his lap and legs criss crossed in front of him. “Is it, um, is it alright if I sleep with my stuffed animal again?”

Harry pulls a stuffed buffalo, Louis thinks it is, out of his backpack, cheeks flushed and bottom lip sucked into his mouth, a bright red color. His hair looked curlier from his shower earlier and his t-shirt’s two sizes too big.

“’Course, sweetheart.” Louis pulls the duvet over Harry, has him lay down and brings it up to his chin. “So long as you don’t let it take my place, alright?”

Harry giggles and nods his head, clutching his stuffed animal close to his chest while Louis reaches over him to turn the lamp off.

Louis makes sure Harry’s half asleep before he rests an arm over his small waist, pulls him closer until his head is resting on Louis’ chest and Louis can feel the tip of the horns of Harry’s stuffed buffalo against his stomach.

*

Louis wakes up to Niall being loud in the kitchen, something about being hung over from too many Jello shots, Louis thinks while he nuzzles Harry’s neck with his nose and listens to a soft giggle, doesn’t let Harry squirm away until it’s absolutely necessary.

“You’re just so warm and soft, sweetheart.” Louis pouts, eyes closed and arms reaching out for Harry seconds after he leaves the bed.

“Okay,” Harry gives in, “but ten more minutes and then I have to call my mum.”

Louis opens his eyes to scoot back in bed, arms wide open as he sighs into Harry’s skin, duvet burying them away from the morning cold.

Louis knows he’s supposed to be good to Harry, and he is, is taking care of him so well that he even pours his milk for him, even if he’s capable of doing it regardless. It’s raining outside, which means board games indoors all day, according to Niall.

“My mum keeps some in the hall closet.” Niall says with a mouthful of food and Louis finds them with ease, nearly drops Life to the floor when he tries to get Candy Land.

When Harry’s done eating, Louis has them both on the living room floor, telling Harry to pick from Connect Four, Monopoly, and Checkers.

“Monopoly takes too long.” Harry mulls, sits on his legs and leaning forward to grab Connect Four.

Louis doesn’t realize how big and soft Harry’s hands are until they’re full with red pieces and he’s fishing one by one on top of Louis’ black pieces. He’s too distracted to notice him getting three in a row and then four, and he’s cheering, exclaiming, “Louis, I won!”

Louis smiles, knows he should be playing the character of the poor sport, or fishing all his pieces into the game, getting seven in a row and telling Harry that his eyes must be deceiving him.

“You did, love.” Louis agrees, instead, resetting the game for four more rounds before Harry gets up, saying that he needs to call his mum before lunch.

Harry comes back with Zayn to play a round of Candy Land, legs crossed in front of himself while he tells Louis it’s his turn and drags his piece across the board game.

“We’re going to need to stop by the store soon, tomorrow or tonight.” Zayn scratches his beard, dark hair grown around his chin and upper lip that Louis notices has caught Harry’s attention.

“Harry and I can go tomorrow. Your credit card looks very pretty in my wallet, Zaynie.”

Zayn snorts and gets up off the ground even though the game isn’t finished and Louis follows behind him, leaving Harry and leaning against the kitchen island while Zayn gets bread out of the fridge to make a sandwich.

Louis spots an old flip phone on the counter and frowns, asking Zayn, “Who brought the dinosaur?” out of general curiosity.

It’s just that, Louis doesn’t  _realize_  it’s Harry’s phone until it’s too late and Zayn’s looking behind him with wide eyes and an apologetic glance. Louis turns around to find Harry standing there, lips parted with glossy eyes like he may cry.

It’s this that shows the level of Harry’s sensitivity, and the way he excuses himself politely, going down the hall to the bedroom,  _Louis and Harry’s_  bedroom.

“Liam told you he’s sensitive.” Zayn starts his  _I told you so_  spiel and Louis groans, follows after Harry who’s already managed to lock himself inside the room.

“Harry!” Louis knocks on the door, jiggling the doorknob and trying to open the door unsuccessfully. He can hear slight mumbling in the bedroom and thinks that Harry must be on the phone, must be on  _Louis’_  phone. “Sweetheart, open up.”

Louis gives up after a minute of no response, rests his forehead against the door until he hears Liam’s footsteps coming downstairs and his name being called.

“I didn’t  _mean_  to insult him.” Louis argues the second he’s in the kitchen, an angry Liam fuming in front of him. His arms are crossed over his chest in defiance. “I can’t help it if he’s sensitive, Liam.”

“I know, but, fuck, Louis,” Liam groans, “he called mum, he wants to go  _home_. He thinks you don’t like him anymore, or something.”

 _Don’t think he’s cool enough_  Louis knows Liam means and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Give me a knife.” He demands, pushes past Liam to grab one himself before he’s hurrying down the hall and using the end of it to open the door. He vaguely hears Niall shouting after him, “Don’t you dare fuck up my parents’ house!” but isn’t listening, eyes trained on Harry with his knees up to his chest in bed, stuffed buffalo up to his chest and eyes rimmed red.

Louis approaches the bed slowly, closing the door behind him and setting the knife down on top of the writing desk. He pulls the duvet back to crawl under the covers with Harry, kisses the top of his head, and rubs his back in soothing circles.

“You want to tell me why you’re upset?” Louis knows why, but thinks that maybe talking about it will help.

Harry shrugs with his flush cheeks and small sniffles, holds his stuffed animal tighter to him.

“Where’d you get that?” Louis keeps his voice down low as he tweaks one of the horns of Harry’s stuffed buffalo.

“M-My dad.”

Louis hums, nods his head.

“He, um, he d-died last year.”

Louis moves his fingers through Harry’s fringe, moving the curls away from his face, before wiping under his eye to clear away a freshly made tear.

“I was only kidding, Harry.” Louis wants Harry to know, if not anything else. He doesn’t want such a precious boy to be upset with him, wants to be able to tease Harry for the entire holiday if he can, tear-free, hopefully.

Harry nods his head in understanding, lets Louis wrap his arms around his torso and lay down with him. Louis has Harry rest on his chest, plays with his hair until he’s fallen asleep and the buffalo in his arms goes slack.

*

Louis wakes up from a long night’s sleep with Harry nudging his shoulder, trying to grab his attention. He’s leaning over Louis, impatient and urgent, and only pulling his hand away when Louis groans and rolls over onto his front.

“Louis?” Harry whispers, and Louis can feel him move a piece of hair away from his forehead, leans into the touch and tries to get back to sleep. “Liam, Zayn, and Niall are doing something, um, weird in the living room.”

“Then go join them.” Louis grumbles without thought, groggy and tired and letting it show.

“Lou _is_ ,” Harry whines, like he doesn’t know what to do, and the pleading tone of his voice catches Louis’ attention, “Zayn sounds hurt.”

Louis sits up, wiping down his face, and turning so that he can sit beside Harry on their bed. He can hear the slight sound of Zayn’s moans if he leans against the headboard, and focuses his vision of Harry, who’s in his pajamas and has his knees up to his chest, appearing slightly confused and far too innocent for this early in the morning.

“Oh shit,” Louis curses, “you’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Realization dawns on him quickly, and how watching his step brother and two friends having sex might be weird for Harry. Scarring, even, especially if he hasn’t done it yet himself.

Harry nods his head slowly, and Louis doesn’t know what to do, what to say and unsure if Harry’s had the talk or knows about sex.

“You watch porn though, right?”

“No,” Harry frowns, “why would I?” And Louis groans, buries his face in his hands.

“Never mind. Liam’s just, um, busy right now, okay? Why don’t we wait in here until they’re done?”

“Is he okay?” Harry asks. “Why are they doing that?”

“Harry, has your mum told you about sex?” Louis asks, trying to be gentle. He doesn’t want to be the one to tarnish Harry or ruin his views on the world. “Love, she has, hasn’t she?”

Harry just shrugs and rests his head on his knees, looking at Louis sideways.

“I dunno.” He murmurs. “Not like how they’re doing it. Boy and a girl, though.”

“Oh.” Louis murmurs, breathes out because it makes more sense now, why Harry would be so confused. Gay sex is one thing, and polygamous is a whole other. “Zayn’s alright, love, so are Niall and Liam. They want to do that.”

“Why?” Harry scrunches his nose up and Louis thinks he kind of looks like a rabbit, as soft as one, maybe, too.

“It feels good for them. It’s not for everyone, though, having a relationship with three people. Or a relationship with two guys, just depends what you like, okay?”

“How do I know what I like?” Harry sits up and then moves, so that he’s hugging Louis’ side and laying against his chest. He’s cuddly when he doesn’t realize it, clearly doesn’t do it intentionally, but out of instinct, and Louis rubs his back, tries to keep him calm.

“You will.” Louis yawns, he’s still tired. “But you don’t need to right now, okay?” He’s falling asleep, can feel the vibrations of Harry talking against his chest as his eyes slip shut.

“Louis?”

Louis’ body relaxes as he begins to fall asleep.

“What if I like someone right now?”

*

When Louis wakes up again Liam’s leaning in the doorway and thanking him for something, before he realizes Louis’ dead asleep. It’s the scent of food that has him rolling out of bed until he falls to the ground and grumbles against the hardwood floor.

“You okay, Lou?” Liam’s kneeling beside him and Louis wakes up enough to nod his head and accept his offer of help to get off the bedroom floor. “Harry’s made a full English breakfast if you want some.”

Louis manages to shower and get dressed under five minutes before he’s seated beside Harry and Zayn in the kitchen, large plate of food in front of him. He leans in to kiss Harry on the cheek by instinct, murmuring, “Thanks, love,” because the food looks delicious and Harry’s cooked it all by himself.

Niall moans around his fork and Liam thanks Harry for helping out. It’s the long stare and quirk of Zayn’s upper lip that has Harry’s attention, and Louis wishes it didn’t, sets his hand along Harry’s thigh, up, up, up, and stakes a claim.

Harry blushes and looks down embarrassedly, only for his face to turn pale when Louis addresses everyone else.

“I thought we discussed that you all got the upstairs to yourselves which means no shagging downstairs? My poor Harry is scarred for life.”

“Harry, we didn’t,” Liam’s quick to start, drops his fork and knife on his plate while Louis watches Niall choke over a glass of milk.

“I’m taking the car and Harry out to dinner tonight.” Louis interrupts, pointing toward the culprits around him with his fork. “You three better have it all out of your system by the time we return. And Liam, you can be in charge of going food shopping as punishment. Harry and I expected more from you.”

Harry looks like he’s going to say something, so Louis squeezes his thigh to silence him, grinning around his glass of juice at the speechlessness of everyone around him.

After breakfast, Harry gets up to do the dishes, but Louis quickly stops him, leans into Harry and murmurs into his hair, “Go watch television with Niall, love, I’ve got it.”

Harry nods his head and Louis watches after him, laughing when Zayn leaves the room and Liam gets up to help Louis clear the table.

“What did you tell him, Louis? I can’t have his mum calling me again.” Liam looks like he’s pleading for Louis’ help, knows that Louis’ impact on Harry ultimately determines whether or not Liam has to worry about a big lecture from his parents when they get back from spring break.

“I just told him that gay sex and polygamy is okay, but not for everyone.” Louis raises his hands in defense before piling on the dirty plates to bring them to the sink. There’s no dish washer, so cleaning is relied on being done by hand.

“Does he even  _know_  what that means?”

“He knows what it looks like.” Louis snorts, putting the orange juice away, before wrapping up leftover bacon to be reheated later. There’s a biscuit on Harry’s plate that he takes a bite of, sending Liam a grin, despite his mate’s apparent stress.

“Where are you taking him tonight?” Liam asks when he has both his arms deep in hot soapy water and a plate in his hand.

Louis shrugs, hasn’t thought it through.

“Zayn’s going to kill you if you charge too much to his card.” Liam moves to the side to let Louis wet a cloth to wipe down the table.

“Relax, I’ll use mine.” Louis’ not cheap, either, won’t be for Harry, at least, especially since he’s young and deserves good, like Liam had told Louis to be.

*

Louis’ unfamiliar with the city nearest to the beach house, which results in him driving around for twenty minutes, telling Harry in the passenger seat to let him know if he sees anything he likes. They settle on a family owned pizza shop near the water, where Louis and Harry wait in a small line for five minutes, hand and hand because they can be.

“Are there nuts in the pizza?” Louis asks, wants to be certain that Harry’s throat won’t close from eating pizza. He figures he’s safe with the shellfish and only needs to worry about the nuts. The shake of the head from the server has him ordering mushroom pizza at Harry’s request.

Louis tells Harry to find them a table while Louis gets drinks, before they’re seated on a large porch outside and the smell of ocean and pizza takes over their senses.

“You alright, love?” Louis asks, because Harry’s been a bit quiet all day, cooped up in their room with his book, or at the end of the couch watching whatever crap Niall decided to put on.

Harry nods his head, wearing his backpack, and lets Louis serve a piece of pizza onto his plate, goes to pick it up when Louis makes sure he’s okay.

“You sure? You’ve been quiet today.”

“I miss my mum.” Harry looks down, blushing like he’s embarrassed.

“That’s alright.” Louis frowns, wants Harry to be comfortable, and folds his pizza in half to stuff into his mouth.

They eat in peaceful silence and Louis pays with his own credit card, but not before buying Harry an ice cream for the road. They take the rest of the pizza home for leftovers, and Louis watches Harry lick the ice cream off his cone at every traffic light

“I’m sure your mum misses you too, Harry.” Louis tries to comfort, even sets his hand on Harry’s thigh at a red light.

“Liam’s dad doesn’t miss him.” Harry argues.

“Well, yeah, but Liam’s a pain in the arse anyway.” Harry giggles around his ice cream and watches Louis move his hand away when the light changes to green. “Besides, you’re only seventeen, love, your mum’s bound to be worrying about you, no matter how many times she lies and says she’s having fun without you.”

“Okay.” Harry nods his head, convinced. “Thank you.”

They return home with a smile on Harry’s face and pizza to please Niall.

*

Louis can feel it in his sleep, up against his bum, and curses under his breath before rolling over onto his back. He expects the pressure to end, to leave and hopes it does because he’s tired and comfortable with the heavy blankets covering him, except then Harry moves to rest on top of him and Louis can feel his boner up against his stomach and groans.

Harry’s only seventeen, so Louis’ willing to cut him some slack, doesn’t hit him like he would’ve if it were Liam or Zayn or Niall, and instead sets him to rest on his front beside him in bed and leaves the room quietly.

Louis plans to find Liam to complain, even though he doesn’t really mind, and risks going upstairs. Opening Liam’s door, he spots Zayn’s tan feet sticking out from under the duvet, both him and Liam dead asleep. The light outside is dim enough to show it’s only early morning, so Louis decides to go across the hall and occupy Zayn’s room, is surprised at how warm the blankets are, and sighs into the sheets.

*

Zayn wakes Louis with a pillow to the head, grumbling, “What’re you doing in here? Get up, we’re going to the beach today.”

“Why, Zaynie?” Louis pouts, but gets up anyway, finding his way downstairs and to the kitchen.

Harry’s at the kitchen table eating breakfast with Liam when Louis gets downstairs and makes himself some toast. He’s not too hungry, and goes to sit next to Harry, except Harry gets up at the same time he sits down and brings his dishes to the sink, head ducked down.

Once Harry’s out of the room, Louis points toward the direction where Harry left and turns to Liam, “He okay?”

Liam shrugs into his eggs and takes a sip from his glass of juice, before following Harry’s path and leaving the room. Louis eats breakfast with a sigh, tugging back the neckline of his shirt and sniffing, before figuring he could use a shower.

Louis’ grabbing his toothbrush from his room, towel around his waist and hair soaking wet when he realizes Harry’s ignoring him. He has his knees to his chest and is reading  _The Catcher in the Rye_  again, isn’t bothering to look up or say hi to Louis.

“Are you okay, love?” Louis asks, toothbrush in hand. He sets it down on the desk before bending down to find a t-shirt and his swim trunks.

Harry shrugs, barely noticeably, and Louis sighs, setting his things down and making his way to sit on the edge of the bed by Harry.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He pulls Harry’s arms down and closes his book for him after tagging the page, even sets his hand on Harry’s waist, rubbing his skin gently through his t-shirt.

“You slept in Zayn’s bed last night.” Harry murmurs, looking down. He looks up, and then down again, like he’s embarrassed.

“M’sorry, love.” Louis apologizes. “Don’t you want your own space, though?” He’s confused, didn’t think that Harry would’ve minded, especially not if he was hard and having a sex dream, or anything of the sort.

Harry shakes his head. “Why’d you leave?” He wants an answer and Louis doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want to embarrass Harry, who’s cute when he’s needy.

“You were hard, sweetheart.” Louis sighs.

Harry stares at Louis, confused for a moment, before he looks down, cheeks a bright red.

“It’s alright, Harry, it’s normal. I just thought I should give you some space, okay? Are you alright?”

Harry nods his head but doesn’t look up, and Louis assumes he needs a bit of time to himself, to let the embarrassment fade.

“Alright, well I’m going to go get ready, then. You better be coming to the beach today.”

*

“I want to be tan, like you.” Harry tells Louis when they get to the beach, settling their stuff on the sand and Harry’s backpack on a beach chair, along with the cooler.

“Oh yeah?” Louis asks.

Harry nods his head and takes off his shirt without any persuasion from Louis, ends up being the first in all irony, and Louis follows his lead, setting his shirt down at the end of the picnic blanket on top of Harry’s.

“I’ve some tanning oil if you want to use it.” Louis tells Harry, finding it in his own pile of stuff and shaking the tall bottle. “It’s kind of cold, though, and don’t get it in your eyes.”

Harry nods his head and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he stands away from the blanket to spray the tanning oil over his legs, rolling his shorts up to tan more of his skin. Louis watches, infatuated by how long Harry’s legs are and the way his thighs appear to go on forever. Harry’s gentle in spreading the tanning oil about his skin, manages to get it all over his arms and torso.

“Lou?” Harry asks. “Do you think you could do my back for me?”

Louis raises an eyebrow but agrees. He has Harry lay down on the blanket and sprays the tanning oil past Harry’s shoulder bones and down by the waistband of his swim trunks. Out of habit from doing it on his own shorts, Louis folds back the waistband of Harry’s, having him lift his waist from where he rests on his stomach, and folding it all the way to the front of his trunks.

Spraying the back of Harry’s legs and arms just to be safe, Louis looks up for a moment to see Liam standing over them. He’s set his, Zayn, and Niall’s picnic blanket farther up the beach, prepared for when the tide travels further up the shore and takes up more sand.

“What’re you doing to my little brother?” Liam inquires, only kidding, and it has Harry giggling into the blanket, sitting up to talk to Liam.

“Louis’ making me tan like him.”

“Do you honestly think that stuff works, Lou?” Liam rolls his eyes, but they both know it does when Louis’ skin is nearly tanner than half Pakistani Zayn, born with naturally darker skin because of his ethnicity.

“’Course it does. I’d never lie to Harry.” Louis winks at Harry, before standing to spray the tanning oil on himself. He lazily sprays across his back, not wanting to burden Harry with it. “Turn ‘round, Li, we’ve got to make you all caramel-y for Zaynie.”

Liam groans but complies, and Harry giggles while he watches Louis spray down Liam’s back and then his legs.

When Liam goes back to his towel, listening to Louis and not going into the water for twenty minutes to let the oil sit, Louis leans into Harry’s ear, whispering, “We’ll let Niall burn.”

There’s a giggle that Louis doesn’t miss, doesn’t think he wants to.

*

Louis’ the last to shower, leaving him in no rush to leave the bathroom. He thinks it might’ve been cleverer to have wanked in the physical shower, but finds it too late when he’s pondering over how tall Harry is, lets his mind wander to his legs, and then his thighs.

Wanking over the toilet is a bad idea, wanking in  _general_  is a bad idea when there’s a house full of four other people right outside of the bathroom door and the bathroom doesn’t even have a lock, but Louis decides to risk it, letting go after the first tug on himself because unlike Niall or Zayn or Liam, he’s failed to get any all holiday, doesn’t have a boyfriend on hand or even a friends with benefits type person.

There’s the noise of Harry’s giggles and the smoothness of his skin, how hard he got from sleeping up against Louis that has Louis clamping a hand over his mouth to stop himself from moaning out loud and the hand on himself, tugging and pulling because he needs to come.

The creaking of the bathroom door barely startles Louis, but has the hand on Louis’ mouth falling down to his cock. He can see the reflection of Harry’s wide eyes and parted lips in the mirror and comes into the toilet, just in time for Harry to close the door and flee.

Louis washes his hand in frustration, scrubbing extra hard out of guilt. He leaves the bathroom with Zayn’s white t-shirt swinging from his collar bones and sweatpants hanging from his hips, surprised to find Harry sitting beside the door.

“S-Sorry,” he stutters, “I, um, really have to pee.” Harry hurries into the bathroom, avoiding all eye contact with Louis with flushed cheeks.

Louis groans under his breath and follows Harry back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Lou _is_ ,” Harry whines, “I need to pee.”

“I’m not looking, see?” Louis asks, turning around to face the door. He closes his eyes for insurance, doesn’t move to show Harry that he can be trusted.

When Louis hears Harry starting to pee, he sighs, leaning his forehead against the door.

“You can’t just walk in on people, y’know.” Louis thinks how terrible it is that Harry walked in on him, especially when he was thinking about Harry.

“I didn’t mean to.” Harry’s blushing and Louis can hear it. “Why were you doing that?”

When Louis hears Harry doing up his zipper again, he turns around, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Harry turn the tap on to wash his hands.

“Jesus Christ, do you  _not_  masturbate?” Louis’ confused, very, very confused.

When he sees Harry’s face, the confusion of it and the redness of his cheeks, Louis nearly groans out loud.

He sighs instead, and approaches Harry by the sink. The bathroom isn’t very large, which leaves them inches apart. Louis cups Harry’s cheek in his hand and leans in, not thinking, but doing, being good to Harry and kissing him on the lips.

“If you touch yourself,” Louis whispers, “you’ll feel good.”

He leaves the bathroom.

*

Louis and Harry sleep on opposite sides of the bed, facing away from each other, despite Louis’ attempts to converse with him. After spending all of dinner nudging Harry’s foot with his not so accidentally under the table, he’s given up, retiring for bed not long after Harry.

*

“Louis.”

Louis wakes up in the middle of the night, not deep enough into sleep to be cranky, with still the taste of toothpaste in his mouth. He can hear the shuffling of the mattress and the call of his name, wiping his eyes, and turning on the lamp.

“Harry, love, what’re you—?”

Louis freezes completely when he seems the tip of Harry’s penis peeking out from under the covers, both of Harry’s hands hidden by the duvet.

“Lou, it’s making the wet stuff.” Harry whispers, but Louis can’t look up to see if Harry’s genuinely confused or flustered with bright pink cheeks. He’s focused on the shade of red of the head of Harry’s penis, can’t believe that Harry’s decided it’s a good idea to masturbate beside him in bed.

He also can’t believe Harry trusts him, relies on him enough to ask for help.

“It, um, it’s hard, too.” Harry’s blushing, and Louis knows that for a fact. “But I don’t know if that’s a good sign. It only does that in the morning and sometimes at school.”

“Harry, sweetheart,” Louis sighs, he can’t think when Harry’s so exposed, and pulls the duvet over him, “why’re you doing this right now?”

“I was curious.” Harry moves his hands from under the covers and wipes them on his shirt shamelessly. “You said it’d feel good and you’re mad at me so I want to feel good.”

“Love, I’m not mad at you.” Louis runs a hand through his hair, can see Harry’s erection through the duvet. “Why don’t you go finish yourself in the bathroom?”

“Finish myself?” Harry repeats. “What do you mean?”

Louis officially decides Harry knows nothing, that he’s going to have to spell everything out for him.

“Do you want me to show you?” Louis already has a hand down his boxers by the time Harry’s nodding his head eagerly. He tries to keep his hand pumping himself hidden, until Harry scoots closer, the duvet falling from his lap and showing how his penis’ pulled over his boxers. Innocently, Harry moves the duvet away from Louis’ lap, too, peels back the waistband of his boxers because he wants to see what Louis’ doing.

Louis moans when Harry curiously grazes the tip of his cock, holds Harry’s hand below his to wank himself.

“Harry, babe,” Louis looks to Harry, trying to think straight with long fingers wrapped around him, “are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

Harry nods his head quickly, but the way his penis presses to his stomach has Louis’ attention. It’s big and flushed and Louis wants to give it attention so badly, but also doesn’t want to frighten Harry or pass any boundaries.

“How far into coming were you?” Louis asks when he feels too close too fast. Harry’s hand goes faster beneath Louis’, his fingers dragging across Louis’ skin like vibrations.

“The feeling, um,” Harry bites the inside of his cheek, “almost.”

Louis moves his hand away and kneels on the bed, Harry moving his away as well. He knows he shouldn’t but does, takes care of Harry by straddling him and pressing their hips together.

“I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” Louis asks, uses the hand that wasn’t touching himself to hold Harry’s cheek in his hand, the smoothness of his face beneath his palm.

Harry nods his head, observant on what Louis’ doing and fully aware of the situation. He clearly doesn’t expect for Louis to move his hand away from his face and then use it to hold their cocks together, wanking the pair of them at the same time.

Harry’s breathing picks up and he holds onto Louis’ waist, tanned skin pressed together. The closer Harry gets to coming, the tighter he holds onto Louis, seventeen year old moans filling the room.

“Louis,” Harry breathes, shakes his head, “too much.” He shows no physical resistance, rests his head against the headboard, and moans with his eyes squeezed shut. Harry comes up against Louis’ cock and watches Louis follow suit, observes the way Louis’ hand is suddenly filled with come.

Louis cleans Harry up, gets a wet flannel from the bathroom to blot Harry’s face, and then wipe the come off his belly. He kisses the top of his forehead and returns the flannel to the bathroom, rinsing it off, and by the time he returns back to bed, Harry’s curled in on himself and asleep, clearly exhausted.

In the morning Louis’ arms are full of Harry, and he feels bad when he has to get up to pee. He finds sweatpants on the floor and pulls them over his boxers, before trying to find Harry’s stuffed buffalo on the duvet, or under the covers. He finds his phone instead by the foot of the bed and  _The Catcher in the Rye_  under his own pillow, sighs before picking Harry’s backpack off the ground to get the buffalo.

Harry wakes up from the noise of the zipper and shuffling of Louis, and sees Louis with his bag, instantly sits up and shakes his head, telling Louis not to.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Louis frowns, doesn’t  _realize_  Harry’s so panicky until he looks like he might cry and Louis kneels beside him in bed, rubbing his back. “Hey,” Louis wants Harry to look at him, but instead he buries his face into Louis’ chest, “love, why’re you upset?”

Harry holds tight onto Louis instead of responding, uses Louis for comfort, but can’t seem to be comforted.

Worried, Louis asks, “Do you want me to get Liam, Harry?”

“N-No” Harry cries, holding onto Louis. It has Louis shushing him, begging the seventeen year old to calm down. It takes a few minutes, but Harry settles, finds himself calm enough to retract from Louis and let him wipe beneath his eyes.

“Harry, babe, can you tell me why you’re so upset?” Louis asks, glancing at Harry’s backpack at the end of the bed.

Harry shrugs, cheeks flushed from crying.

“If you want to talk about it,” Louis offers, but doesn’t push. “I don’t think the boys are up yet,” he notes, “why don’t you let me run you a bath?” This time Harry doesn’t have a choice. Instead, Louis gets out of bed and leaves the room, down the hall and to the downstairs bathroom where a small tub rests, big enough to comfort Harry and hopefully stop his small sniffles and hiccups.

Louis lets the hot water run while he tiptoes upstairs to sneak Zayn’s strawberry bubble bath, making sure to be extra quiet with knowledge that explaining Harry’s current state of being could be hard.

Louis expects to find Harry still crying, or maybe on the phone with his mum when he returns from turning off the water and filling the tub with pink foam, but instead he’s content, knees to his chest and sucking his thumb.

“Harry,” Louis whispers, “you okay to come take your bath?”

Harry nods his head around his thumb, looking up through his eyelashes. He takes his thumb out of his mouth to get off the bed and follow behind Louis to the bathroom, shyly taking off his shirt, followed by his boxers in front of the tub.

“Do you want me to leave?” Louis asks, but Harry shakes his head quickly once he’s inside of the bathtub. The bubbles go up to his chest and hide everything but the tips of his knees where he rests his head on.

Louis kneels by the bath and kicks the door closed with his foot. He opens the drawers under the sink and finds a tall cup.

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” Louis can only think about bathing his little sisters when put in charge of babysitting for the night, tries to replicate what he’d normally do and comfort Harry simultaneously.

Harry nods his head and listens to Louis as he’s told to turn around, tipping his head back and closing his eyes so he doesn’t get the soapy water Louis pours over his head in his eyes.

Harry rests in the bath comfortably while Louis watches over him for a while. When the bath water begins to get cold, Harry asks, “Can I get out now, Lou?” and Louis nods his head, standing to get him a towel. Harry drains the water before standing, Louis wrapping the towel around his shoulders and down his body.

When Louis realizes Harry doesn’t have any clothes in here, he bites his lip, knowing how protective Harry is over his stuff, and asks, “Do you want me to go get your clothes?”

“They’re not in my bag,” Harry’s voice is soft and quiet as he stands before Louis in just a towel, “in my suitcase.”

Louis’ quick and careful not to go into Harry’s backpack for whichever reason he doesn’t want Louis in it. He finds Harry’s boxers and a pair of warm socks, before going into his own suitcase and grabbing him a large university sweater, one that doesn’t fit him properly, so it definitely won’t fit Harry.

Harry puts his clothes on in front of Louis, before blow drying his hair until it looks soft and Louis kind of wants to touch it. Louis doesn’t leave the bathroom before he offers to make breakfast, asking Harry if he’s hungry, and hurrying toward the kitchen.

Louis has Harry watch television on the couch while he makes them breakfast, going for eggs and toast with glasses of juice. Once they’re seated together, Harry moves close enough to Louis so they’re both in the middle of the couch with their sides pressed together. They eat with their drinks on the coffee table and plates in their lap, quiet until Harry asks, “Lou?”

Louis hums and shovels scrambled eggs into his mouth, still staring at the television.

“Can you take care of my, um,” Harry’s blushing again when Louis turns to look at him with curiosity, “my penis again.”

Louis’ unsure what to say, because Harry’s his best mate’s little  _brother_ , is only seventeen, and even if he is legal, he doesn’t want to take advantage.

“The boys will be up soon, love.” Louis kisses Harry on the cheek, hoping he can appease him, because no matter how badly he wants to help him out, he knows he shouldn’t. “Why don’t you go get your stuffed animal and we can watch a film?”

Harry nods his head, smiling, and acting as if he’d never asked. When he returns, Liam’s up and grumbling that there’s no more oatmeal, and Louis’ telling him the only people who eat oatmeal are babies with no teeth and the elderly. They put on a Christmas film that’s just started, even though Christmas was a few months back, and Harry ends up cuddling Louis more than his stuffed buffalo, giggling into Louis’ ear whenever something funny happens in the film, and not breaking apart, even when Zayn goes to sit on his opposite side.

*

“What’ve you done to my brother?” Liam asks after dinner. It rained again, meaning telly indoors and a very long game of Monopoly that had Niall bankrupt within the hour and Louis cheating for Harry whenever someone went to the bathroom or got food.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Liam.” Louis helps clear the table, thankful that everyone else is in the living room.

“Louis,” Liam sighs, “just, I think Harry has a crush on you. Please don’t hurt him, we’ve one more day and then you can never speak to him again if you don’t want to.”

Louis can’t believe how fast the time’s passed him, or that Liam thinks he’d just never speak to Harry again, especially someone as precious as Harry. But he nods his head, agreeing to listen, even though he can’t imagine just moving on with his life when he returns back to Uni, as if nothing’s happened.

*

Harry’s too tired to ask about Louis taking care of him again when they get to bed. He cuddles up with his head under Louis’ chin and on his chest instead, still in Louis’ sweater, but having changed into Louis’ boxers after asking for them with a blush.

*

Breakfast occurs at one in the afternoon after everyone sleeps in late, dreading the end of their holiday. Louis wakes to Harry giggling and murmuring something, and when he opens his eyes, he realizes he’s talking on the phone with his mum.

Possessively, almost, he hugs Harry’s torso from where he’s kneeling on the bed, pushing him down and nuzzling his face into his stomach.

“I have to go, mum,” Harry giggling, though, and anyone would be able to suspect that something was going on from the other end of the telephone, “Louis just woke up, bye, love you.” He hangs up fast and Louis sighs loudly when he does, closes his eyes and tries to fall back to sleep.

“Liam’s making breakfast.” Harry squirms about and Louis lifts Harry’s shirt to kiss above his belly button. “He says we’re having a bonfire at the beach tonight.”

Louis sits up and kisses the top of Harry’s head before getting out of bed, humming.

“Do we have more hotdogs?”

“I think so.” Harry’s already dressed for the day, in swim trunks and a t-shirt, hair wet from a shower and already curling.

“What about marshmallows?” Louis takes his shirt off and stuffs it into the hamper, thinking about how he’ll have to do a load of laundry when he gets back home.

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugs and yelps when Louis pulls him into him, kissing below his ear.

“If not,” Louis murmurs, “I’ll have to eat you instead.” Their hips are pressed together and Louis applies a small enough amount of friction to hold himself over. Harry’s frozen and panting by the time Louis leaves the room to shower.

*

The plan’s to eat everything they can and go out for breakfast in the morning before they take the drive home. As a result, breakfast means going all out and making everything they can, flour smudged on Harry’s nose from the pancakes, and Niall eating a raw egg out of a dare.

“If you vomit, please do it in the toilet.” Liam begs, even though it is Niall’s house. No one wants to clean up any bigger of a mess than they already have from making breakfast.

Louis sits between Harry and Liam at the table and ends up cutting up Harry’s pancakes out of instinct. Either no one notices, or they don’t question it, and he doesn’t mind either way, likes the way Harry dips his pieces of pancake into syrup and doesn’t have to bother picking up his knife once.

“We have hotdogs, marshmallows, hotdog buns, beer, soda,” Zayn lists from the fridge, getting up to check when Liam asks, “ketchup, relish, no mustard, a bit of milk, lube – why is there lube in the fridge, Niall? – peanut butter, and cheese sticks.”

Louis takes a slice of bacon from Zayn’s plate before he sits back down, manages to eat it right in front of him without him noticing.

“Who put the lube in the fridge?” Niall asks with a mouthful of food but no one will fess up.

“We can bring most of it down to the beach for the bonfire.” Liam suggests at the same time that Harry goes to hold Louis’ hand under the table.

They each eat with one hand while Zayn says he’s going down to the beach, and Liam decides he’s going to spend the afternoon napping. He’s been elected to drive the following day, and because it’s guessed to be a late night, he wants to rest beforehand. Niall decides to come with to the beach, and that leaves Louis and Harry to decide, who’ve been quiet over today’s plans.

“Do you want to go, love?” Louis asks Harry. They haven’t spent nearly as many days as they would’ve liked by the water, and Harry’s nod of the head decides it for them.

*

At the beach, Niall and Zayn occupy one picnic blanket beside Louis and Harry’s. Harry asks Louis to rub sunscreen on his still-pale back, having given up on the tanning lotion, and Zayn and Niall make out directly beside them.

“Why’d you have to put your blanket so close?” Louis groans, tugging his arm over his sunglasses. The sun is beating down harder than normal and Louis can feel it working its way into his skin, either burning him or tanning him, and at this point he’d like neither if it means the heat will go away.

“Liam told us to look after you and Harry.” Zayn stops what he’s doing to reply and Louis gags, wonders if Liam suspects anything going on. “Since he’s not here and all.”

“You two are gross, c’mon, Harry.” Louis stands and holds his hand out for Harry who’s laid beside him. Their hands are held in one another’s until they reach the water and Louis lets go to swim to a deeper area.

Harry follows behind, long legs kicking fast in the water to keep up with Louis, who ducks down under and only comes back up when he manages to catch up with him.

“Hi, love.” Louis grins and slips his hand on Harry’s waist under the ocean. The water manages to be warm from the sun, not at all like how cold it was their first day at the beach house.

“Louis,” Harry murmurs, “do you have a girlfriend?”

Louis leans into Harry, glancing past him to where Zayn and Niall look like ants from so far away. He hopes they aren’t looking when he leans in to kiss Harry on the lips, almost uses some tongue, before deciding to keep it to the bare minimum, short and sweet.

“I like blokes, love.” He murmurs against Harry’s ocean water skin, smiles, even.

“Do you have a boyfriend, then?” Harry’s voice has gone quieter, like a whisper, noticeably hesitant, but going for it anyway.

Louis shakes his head no, fingers sliding down along the waistband of Harry’s swim shorts. He knows he’s not going to do anything, but if Harry were older and not Liam’s younger step brother who’s been put under his watch, he’d be holding Harry to him by his bum and making him come in the ocean, where the water goes up to their shoulders. Or deeper, where Harry would have to cling to him to stay upright at all, and Louis would take such good care of him.

Instead, Louis ducks underwater and comes back up feet away from Harry, where he giggles and tries to replicate what Louis’ done, but ends up appearing right in front of Louis when he swims straight ahead. Like a magnet, he fails to leave Louis’ side under the sun finds itself behind a cloud and it looks like there’s going to be thunder showers. Zayn calls for them to come inside, and Louis pretends not to notice the pout on Harry’s lips when he’s told he has to come out of the water.

*

Louis and Harry rest against the window nook in their room, bordered by pillows with their bodies on either end and legs entwined. While Harry picks at a frayed string on his shirt, Louis looks out the window at the rain pouring down and the occasional strike of lightning in the sky.

“Lou?” Harry asks. “What’s lube?”

Louis looks up, confused for a moment. “Did you put the lube in the fridge, love?”

Harry bites his lip and slowly nods his head, refusing to make eye contact with Louis from embarrassment.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, babe,” Louis coos, could laugh if he didn’t already know how sensitive Harry was, “it’s just something people use for sex. Makes it better.”

“Is that why Liam has it?” Harry lets the string of fabric go and finds Louis’ hand to hold in his own.

Louis nods his head and rubs Harry’s palm like he does to his sisters sometimes, knows that it helps calm them down.

“I thought it was, like, ketchup, for hamburgers, or something.” He scrunches his nose up, confused. “Did I make it go bad?”

“Nah, it’ll be alright,” Louis smiles, making sure Harry isn’t upset, “besides, even if it did go bad, Niall would convince everyone otherwise and they’d still use it.”

Harry giggles and moves to rest against Louis’ chest. The nook is small, but big enough for the both of them when their bodies fit like pieces of a puzzle.

*

The skies clear up in time for the sun to begin to set. Outside, it smells fresh like rain and Louis and Harry walk down to the beach after everyone else. Harry’s wearing his backpack and Louis’ holding the cooler full of beer and soda, Harry on his arm while the bonfire Liam’s started causes the entire beach to glow.

“It smells like fire.” Harry whispers to Louis, mouth close to his ear and curls pressed to his cheek. They’re close enough that Louis’ not focused on the smell of smoke, but Harry and whatever body wash he uses in the shower.

There’s two outside chairs set side by side for Harry and Louis, and Louis makes sure Harry sets his bag away from the pile of burning sticks and food, keeps it safe behind their chairs but close enough so he can grab it when he wants to.

Liam passes Harry and Louis each a hotdog on a wooden sticks from the shop down the road to try and cook, and when Harry’s falls off his, Louis makes him a hotdog out of his own, even puts a line of ketchup on it for him and has Niall pass him a soda.

For marshmallows, Niall sets all that’s left of them along a stick of his own and cooks them at once. Louis feeds one to Harry when no one’s looking at their end of the circle they’ve made around the fire.

“Lou,” Harry whispers, so quiet that only Louis can hear, “will you take care of me tonight?”

Louis nearly chokes on his beer, not in the mood to have to try and hide a boner. Liam asks him if he’s alright, and offers him a napkin, but he shakes his head, is fine, except for the fact that Harry still wants an answer.

“If you’re a good boy.” Louis decides to whisper to him.

Apparently for Harry, being a good boy is asking Niall for a beer and gaining wolf whistles from everyone but Louis. Louis tries to tell him not to, but Harry’s already halfway done with his beer and scooting his chair closer to Louis’ so he can talk to him without anyone hearing.

“Want to get drunk for you.” He giggles, leaning into Louis’ shoulder.

“Good boys don’t drink.” Louis tells Harry, tries to reason with a seventeen year old who’s trying to gain his approval.

Harry lets Louis take his beer and doesn’t try to have another sip.

*

Zayn and Niall get tired only a few hours into the bonfire, and Liam decides to give the fire one more log and then to let it die out. Everyone but Louis and Harry head back home by midnight, but after Harry protests in Louis’ ear, they decide to stay and enjoy the lasts of the bonfire, promising Liam to bury it with sand and not let it burn out when they’re done.

If Louis feeds it two more logs after Liam, Zayn, and Niall leave, only Harry notices, and doesn’t say anything about it.

“Louis,” Harry murmurs. They’ve both been staring at the fire for over ten minutes, watching it eat the logs it’s been fed and illuminate the beach. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Louis’ glad there’s nothing in his mouth, because he could easily choke, glances over to see Harry staring at him seriously.

“Darling,” Louis sighs, “I think you want to date someone your own age, don’t you think?”

Harry shakes his head, a pout on his pink lips. His face is bright under the influence of the bonfire and Louis feels guilty for trying to turn him down.

“No one else will take care of me like you.” Harry digs the tip of his converse into the stand, looking down, and if he’s trying to make Louis feel bad, it’s working too well.

Louis doesn’t know if Harry’s talking about masturbation or Louis taking care of him, like giving him baths and making him dinner. He doesn’t know why all of it means so much to him, either.

“Harry,” Louis sighs, “I’m not the only other gay boy in existence, love.”                                              

“I’m not gay.” Harry frowns, turns to look at Louis with confusion. “I don’t,” he breathes, “I just like you. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay.” Louis grabs for Harry’s hand, holds it in his own. “You’re okay, love.”

The quiet gives Louis time to think and feel worse for Harry, knowing what it’s like to be a confused teen. He’s glad that Liam’s parents obviously aren’t homophobic, don’t care at all about sexuality if they’re trusting Louis, Zayn, Niall, and Liam to spend an entire week with their younger son without question, even asked if he could come with.

“Why don’t we do something fun?” Louis suggests. He wants to cheer Harry up, to make his last night worth it.

Harry just shrugs glumly and doesn’t look up from his feet until his hand’s released and Louis’ getting up to take his shirt off. He kicks off his shoes next, followed by the unbuttoning of his jeans.

“What’re you doing?” Harry frowns, but he’s not looking at Louis’ face. His eyes are trained on Louis’ bare torso and Louis kind of likes it.

“I’m going skinny dipping.” Louis announces, before his jeans are pulled down and his boxers are following. Harry’s lips are parted in awe, but Louis’ not paying him any more attention, instead runs toward the crashing waves and sound of the beach.

He’s not surprised when he can see Harry’s figure standing and stripping, expects the splash next to him in the water.

“It’s not as cold as I thought it’d be.” Harry says when he’s next to Louis in the ocean, close enough for his words to feel like they’re coming right into his ear, vibrating off of his eardrum.

“S’cause you’re here.” Louis winks, but it’s dark out, outside of the bonfire, so Harry might not catch it.

What Louis catches, however, is Harry laying on his back above the water, and he can’t help but lean in to kiss him, pulling him back down to having to kick his legs to float. The water goes to their chins, but Louis keeps himself and Harry together by their lips.

“Why won’t you be my boyfriend?” Harry pulls away to ask, murmurs against Louis’ lips. It’s a simple question that Louis doesn’t know if he can answer.

“You deserve the world, sweetheart,” Louis whispers, “and you’re only seventeen.”

There’s no argument and no opposition. Harry just leans in to kiss Louis again.

*

There’s a lot of hurrying around to finish packing away their things, trying not to forget anything because the beach house won’t be used until the Horan’s decide they want to go on holiday to England in the summer, or Niall becomes homeless after Uni. Instead of joining the hurry, Louis and Harry stay in bed, awake together with their eyes closed and bodies tangled.

Louis’ things are already together, except for his toiletries, and he knows those won’t take long to get packed after he showers. They’d washed and cleaned everything that belonged to the house the day before, Harry even volunteering to vacuum the living room where Niall had made a mess of a bag of crisps a day or two back.

“I don’t want to leave the bed.” Louis murmurs into Harry’s neck, mouth pressed to his warm skin. They’ve gotten close, so close that the thought of going back to Uni and not being like this with Harry everyday seems bizarre to him. “Liam’s gonna kill me, though, call me irresponsible and then I’ll be banished to the back seat of the car with you.”

“Hey.” Harry pouts, about to get up, but Louis pushes him back down, leaning over his body.

“It wouldn’t be so bad.” Louis kisses him to reassure. “Lots of hand holding, I promise.”

“Okay.” Harry murmurs, and their seats for the long car ride are assigned.

Harry packs his  _The Catcher in the Rye_  book into his bag, along with his mobile phone and toy buffalo, while Louis hurries off to shower. When he gets back, Harry’s hair is wet from having showered upstairs and they’re both matching with sweatpants.

“So,” Louis slings an arm over Liam’s shoulders when he gets into the kitchen, where Liam’s fussing over getting all the dishes cleaned before they leave. The dishes also belong to the house, and Liam’s very serious on returning everything to the Horan’s like it’s never been used. “I was wondering if you could do Harry and I a favour and not question us when you drop us off in front of the diner I point out in the car, and then pick us up about forty-five minutes later when Niall finishes having his third meal of the day at eleven o’clock.”

“I’m going to kill you, Louis.”

“Thanks, babe.” Louis kisses the side of Liam’s face cheekily before he’s moving his arm and leaving the room to bring his things into the car.

Louis bringing his things to the car also means helping Harry bring his, minus his backpack which stays perched along Harry’s shoulders while he trails behind Louis.

“When Liam gets his head out of his arse you and I are going to breakfast.” Louis opens the boot and lifts his and Harry’s suitcase inside. The only person whose suitcase is already in there is Zayn’s, and Louis’ not surprised.

“What about everyone else?” Harry seems like he’s debating whether or not he should put his backpack into the boot. Louis ends up closing the boot with Harry’s backpack inside, progress made.

“They’ll be at a different restaurant for breakfast.” Louis shrugs. “Trust me, you don’t want to see Liam babying Niall in a restaurant, love, it’s not very appetising.”

Harry doesn’t need convincing, though, accepts the plans made for him and tries to hold Louis’ hand when they go back into the house, but Louis swerves away, doesn’t want to seem as suspicious as he already is.

“Liam!” Louis shouts somewhere into the house, laying down with his feet up on the couch. “You better be ready within the hour!”

*

“Point out any place you like.” Louis leans into Harry to whisper in the backseat of the Range Rover. No one can hear him but Harry, who nods contently and resumes looking out the window. The more they drive, it seems, the farther away they get from the water and the less amount of time Harry and Louis have together before they resume their lives. Harry, living with his mum and step-dad and going to school, and Louis at Uni where he tries not to walk into his dorm when Zayn has Niall or Liam over, and gets wasted at parties on the regular.

They’re five miles away from the beach house when they start to drive by some shops and Harry’s eyes are glued out the window. “That one.” He points out, and Louis makes Liam stop the car.

“You’re having ice cream for breakfast?” Liam asks incredulously, but the decision’s already been made. The car’s stopped in the car park, waiting for Harry and Louis to get out.

“Hey, Liam, I want ice cream for breakfast, too!” Niall whines, about to take his seatbelt off, but on the way out the door, Louis pushes him back down into his seat.

“You aren’t invited. Go eat a crummy waffle.” Louis grabs Harry’s hand and they try not to bump their heads on the roof of the car as they hurry out without another word.

*

“Here,” Louis hands Harry one of the sample cups, “try this one.” It’s almond banana and Louis expects him to hate it, but instead his eyes light up like stars and he nearly jumps off the ground.

“This one, this is the one.” Harry declares, pointing toward the almond banana ice cream to the lady behind the counter. He gets three cherries on top of a cone and his ice cream covered in sprinkles.

Louis settles on a strawberry milkshake, trying and failing to stay on the healthy side because he knows once he returns to Uni that’ll also mean returning to school canteen cheeseburgers and chips for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“I can tie a knot with my cherry stem.” Harry grins and picks a cherry off of his cone. It’s one of the waffle cones with a flat bottom, so he sets it down on the table and lets Louis take a cherry as well.

“Ready?” Louis asks, deciding they’re going to race. He’s done this before and won by default, feels somewhat confident in his tongue tying skills. “Go.”

Louis eats the cherry first because it’s red, sweet, and pitless, before setting the stem on the side of his cheek and manoeuvring it to tie a knot.

Harry finishes, it seems, before Louis even starts, setting his knot of a cherry stem down onto a napkin on the booth’s table they’re seated at.

“Done.” He grins, and Louis’ impressed, shows Harry his limp stem and how he’s quite clearly lost.

“How’d you learn to do it so fast?” Louis’ tried too many times to count before he first got it, took even longer to tie a knot under a short period of time, and has only successfully done it under a minute once.

Harry shrugs, “Practice.” and picks up his cone to lick around the top where it’s beginning to melt, before popping his last cherry into his mouth.

Louis insists on buying Harry a cookie for the car before they leave. He has Harry pick out one of the bigger ones, one with Smarties on top.

“Do you want anything else?” Louis asks, takes a final sip of his milkshake, before tossing it into the bin.

“No thank you.” Harry smiles and they both watch as the cashier scoops a cookie into a to-go bag and rings them out.

Liam’s waiting outside and back from breakfast when they go outside, finding him parked in front of the ice cream parlour. Louis and Harry dart for the back of the car, Louis stepping on Niall’s ankle when he tries to trip Louis.

“Ow! Do you see what he just did, Zaynie, Zayn, he just stepped on my ankle!” Niall pouts, leaning forward to where Zayn sits shotgun. Niall’s in the middle row alone.

No one acknowledges Niall, who grumbles and slouches in his seat, before eventually dozing off. Louis buckles Harry into the backseat of the car and sets the cookie bag in his lap. Instead of leaving the middle seat between them, Louis occupies it, both his and Harry’s sides pressed equally together.

When Harry falls asleep on Louis’ shoulder, Louis shuffles through his own backpack which rests on the floor for a pen. He slides up the sleeve of Harry’s arm and fixes it in front of him, carefully writing the numbers of his phone number up his pale skin and going toward his wrist.

Louis pulls Harry’s sleeve down and intertwines their hands where no one can see. No one can see.

*

“Harry,” Louis whispers, “Harry, darling, wake up, we’re here.”

Louis hates to say it, to pop his own bubble, but there’s not much hope for a future relationship with Harry, to be his boyfriend, or whatever the seventeen year old wants them to be.

Parked in front of Harry and Liam’s family home, Liam opens the boot to get his bags out, and Louis wakes him up.

Initially, Harry nuzzles his face further into Louis’ shoulder, face pressed into his neck and humming contently. Louis’ regretful in unbuckling him and waking him up, kissing him on the cheek and whispering goodbye.

Harry’s helped out of the car and walked to the door by Liam, who waves goodbye to Anne.

“Anne told me to say thank you.” Liam’s speaking to Louis when he gets back into the car. “Do you want to drive?”

Louis nods numbly and Liam takes his place in the middle row, while Louis drives off, knows there’s nothing he can do but hope Harry calls or moves on, whichever’s best.

They return the car to the rental place near campus and take two taxis to campus because of all their bags. Louis’ stuck with Liam and a man with a heavy Russian accent, speaking bits of Russian without realizing it when asking where they’re heading.

“Westside of campus at London Uni.” Liam takes out his wallet while the driver puts the location into his sat-nav. “Thank you for being so good to Harry, by the way.” Liam hands twenty quid to the driver, but is talking to Louis. “I think he had a good time, all things considered.”

“Do you know why he brings that backpack with him everywhere?” Louis’ been curious and doesn’t mean to talk about Harry behind his back like this, but simply can’t help it.

“It’s from his dad, I think. Real sentimental or something.” Liam shrugs, doesn’t elaborate. “Anne was really worried Harry would be cooped up in his room all week. She was glad to know he wasn’t.”

Liam smiles at Louis, and Louis smiles in return. When they finally get to campus, Louis gets his things out of the car and takes the lift by himself up to his dorm room, leaving Liam behind.

After dinner, when Louis starts to plan how he’s going to write three five-page essays tomorrow, before back to school on Monday, his phone rings on his bed. Zayn’s at Niall and Liam’s dorm, as if he can’t get enough of them, leaving Louis with the room to himself. The number’s unfamiliar and there’s a hint of hope in Louis’ chest before he picks up.

“Lou?” It’s Harry.

“Hi.”


End file.
